LIFE  of  TOM  HORN 

'  i  \ 


GOVERNMENT  SCOUT  AND 
INTERPRETER 


WRITTEN  BY  HIMSELF 

Together  with  His  Letters  and  Statements 
by  His  Friends 


Vindication 


THIRTEEN  FULL  PAGE  ILLUSTRATIONS 


^Published  (for John  C.  Coble]  by 

The  Louth&n  *:Book  Company 

'Denver 


Copyright,  1904,  by  John  C.  Coble. 
All  Rights  Reserved. 


DENVER,  COLORADO 

THE  SMITH-BROOKS  PRINTING  COMPANY 
1904 


Cover  design  by  John  Ohnimus. 


PREFACE 

In  preparing  this  autobiography  for  publication,  there 
has  been  no  attempt  to  make  it  literature.  No  sentence 
has  been  added ;  and  no  alterations  have  been  made,  save 
to  avoid  ambiguity,  and  to  promote  clearness  and 
strength.  All  changes  have  been  kept  strictly  in  harmony 
with  the  style  of  the  author.  For  the  convenience  of 
the  reader  the  manuscript  has  been  broken  into  chapters ; 
and  of  course  the  chapter  headings  were  not  original  with 
Horn. 

For  obvious  reasons,  the  Westernisms,  and  even  the 
slang,  have  been  retained.  Horn  was  thoroughly  West 
ern.  Born  and  reared  in  the  West — if,  indeed,  it  can  be 
correctly  said  that  he  was  "reared" — he  passed  his  entire 
life  here,  with  the  exception  of  the  period  of  his  service 
to  his  country  during  the  war  with  Spain;  and,  being 
Western,  his  conversation  was  replete  with  local  expres 
sions,  not  always  elegant,  yet  rarely  profane  and  never 
vulgar. 

I  wish  to  repeat  this:  Tom  Horn  icas  seldom  profane. 
And  this  assertion  will  be  sustained  by  those  who  really 
knew  him — a  fact  which  alone  serves  to  disprove  that  so- 
called  famous  "confession,"  the  language  of  which 
smacks  very  much  more  of  the  talk  of  those  who  edited 
the  "notes  taken  on  the  spot." 

But,  as  I  have  suggested,  there  have  been  no  additions 
made  to  this  autobiography,  and  such  alterations  as  have 
been  made  do  not  alter  the  text  in  any  material  manner. 
Rather,  it  has  been  the  object,  in  editing  the  manu- 

M14S647 


script,  to  present  the  writer's  life-story  in  his  own  pleas 
ing  style,  with  his  own  strong  personality  gleaming 
through  the  whole.  Note  his  unerring  memory,  even  to 
minute  details;  the  objects  of  his  hero  worship  and  the 
sort  of  men  they  were;  his  unconsciously  expressed  for 
giveness  for  injuries;  his  untiring  faithfulness  to  duty 
under  the  most  trying  circumstances;  his  strong  sense 
of  justice;  and  note  particularly  that  although  his  manu 
script  was  written  to  hurry  lagging  time,  and  for  the 
private  perusal  of  his  friends  only,  it  contains  not  the 
slightest  strain  of  vulgarity.  No  expurgation  has  been 
necessary. 

This  autobiography  is  now  given  in  book  form  for  gen 
eral  circulation,  in  response  to  an  insistent  public  de 
mand.  The  fact  that  such  a  "Life"  had  been  written  had 
no  sooner  become  known  than  I  was  besieged  by  his  per 
sonal  friends  and  acquaintances,  and  by  interested  read 
ers  of  the  published  reports  of  the  trial,  for  the  publica 
tion  of  the  autobiography  prepared  by  Tom  Horn.  Let 
ters  reached  me  by  every  mail  from  almost  every  state 
and  territory  of  the  Union;  and  I  may  be  permitted  here 
to  state  that  there  was  scarcely  a  letter  among  them  all 
which  did  not  declare  a  belief  in  the  innocence  of  Horn, 
"after  carefully  considering  the  details  of  the  case." 

Telegrams  and  letters  reached  me,  also,  from  daily 
newspapers,  monthly  magazines  and  publishing  houses, 
making  propositions  for  "exclusive  publishing  rights." 

And  so  I  have  yielded.  In  your  hands  is  the  book. 
For  it,  is  asked  a  reading  without  prejudice.  For  its 
writer,  is  asked  that  which,  during  his  closing  years,  was 
denied  him — fair  play. 

JOHN  C.  COBLE. 

Iron  Mountain  Ranch,  Bosler,  Wyoming, 
March  1,  1004. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I. 

Pages. 
HORN'S     BOYHOOD  — HIS     DOG     "SHED."  —  BBNNIE,     THE 

MODEL  BOY— HORN  LEAVES  HOME  FOR  THE  WEST..    17-24 

CHAPTER  II. 

HORN  BECOMES  MAIL  AND  STAGE  DRIVER— NIGHT-RIDER, 
BOSS  OF  QUARTERMASTER'S  HERD,  GOVERNMENT 
INTERPRETER  —  SIEBER  KILLS  CHUGADESLONA— 
SIEBER  AND  HORN  VISIT  PEDRO,  CHIEF  OF 
FRIENDLY  APACHES 25-31 

CHAPTER  III. 

MICKY  FREE,  SCOUT  AND  GUIDE— HORN  BEGINS  LIFE 
AMONG  THE  APACHES— "THE  TALKING  BOY"  A  FULL- 
FLEDGED  INDIAN— A  LODGE  AND  HOUSEKEEPER....  32-37 

CHAPTER  IV. 

MAJOR  CHAFFEE  AND  FIRST  MILITARY  INDIAN  AGENCY- 
PEDRO'S  "MEDICINE"  FOR  BAD  INDIANS— HORN  OUT 
OF  A  JOB— GOES  PROSPECTING— TOMBSTONE,  AND 
WHY  SO  CALLED-INDIAN  TROUBLES— INTERPRETS 
ONCE  MORE— FIRST  APPOINTMENT  WITH  GERONIMO  38-48 

CHAPTER  V. 

ARRIVAL  AT  THE  HOSTILE  CAMP— THE  COUNCIL— GER 
ONIMO  IN  THE  HEIGHT  OF  HIS  POWER,  THE  "BIG 
GEST  CHIEF,  THE  BEST  TALKER  AND  THE  BIGGEST 
LIAR"— HORN  INTERPRETS  AT  THE  BIG  TALK— "NOT 
SCARED,  BUT  A  LITTLE  SHAKY"— THE  APACHE 
GRIEVANCES— SIEBER'S  REPLY  TO  GERONIMO...  .  49-55 


8  TABLE   OF   CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  VI.  Pages 

GOOD-BYE  TO  GERONIMO— "HAPPY  TO  MEET  YOU  IN 
BATTLE  AS  WELL  AS  IN  COUNCIL!"  —  ESCORTING 
INDIANS  BACK  TO  RESERVATION  UNDER  DIFFICUL 
TIES—EVADING  THE  CUSTOMS— HORN  AGAIN  OUT  OF 
EMPLOYMENT— HIRES  TO  A  BEEF  CONTRACTOR- 
INDIAN  TROUBLES  BREWING— MAJOR  CHAFFEE  SU 
PERSEDED  BY  CIVILIAN  TIFFANY  —  "SOMETHING 
ROTTEN  IN  DENMARK" 57-62 

CHAPTER  VII. 

AN  INDIAN  OUTBREAK— DEATH  OF  STIRLING— HORN  CAR 
RIES  NEWS  OF  OUTBREAK  TO  CAMP  THOMAS— PUR 
SUING  THE  RENEGADES— "SIX  MEN  KILLED  IN  ONE 
MINUTE"— HORN'S  KNOWLEDGE  OF  APACHE  LAN 
GUAGE  SAVES  THE  COMMAND 63-72 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

WANTED:  MORE  SOLDIERS— SIEBER'S  "GROWL"— AP 
PARENT  MISMANAGEMENT  OF  INDIAN  AFFAIRS— A 
SCOUT'S  DUTY— MAJOR  TUPPER  WANTS  "TO  GET  A 
LICK  AT  THE  INDIANS"  —  FORTY  SOLDIERS  AND 
TWENTY-FIVE  SCOUTS  AGAINST  THREE  HUNDRED 
CHIRICAHUA  BRAVES— OVER  THE  LINE  INTO  MEXICO 
— SIEBER  LOCATES  HOSTILE  CAMP 73-82 

CHAPTER  IX. 

A  DAYLIGHT  SURPRISE— "AND  THE  FIGHT  WAS  ON!"— 
HORN  SAVES  SERGEANT  MURRAY  UNDER  A  HOT 
FIRE— CASUALTIES  AND  BOOTY— COLONEL  FORSYTHE 
AND  REINFORCEMENTS  —  INDIANS  CLASH  WITH 
FIFTH  MEXICAN  REGIMENT,  CHIHUAHUA  CAVALRY 
—ONE  HUNDRED  AND  SIXTY-SEVEN  KILLED,  FIFTY- 
THREE  CAPTURED— FORSYTHE  VERSUS  GARCIA— 
HORN  INTERPRETS— ARMED  FORCE  OF  AMERICANS 
ON  MEXICAN  TERRITORY— UNDER  ARREST;  THE 
SURPRISING  BEHAVIOR  OF  THE  ARRESTED-SIE- 
BER'S  "GENERAL  BIG  KICK"  TO  DEPARTMENT  COM 
MANDER  83-93 

CHAPTER  X. 

SIEBER,  HORN  AND  MICKY  FREE  VISIT  THE  WHITE 
MOUNTAIN  INDIANS— OLD  PEDRO'S  ADVICE  AND 


TABLE   OF   CONTENTS.  9 

Pages. 

PROPHECY— THE  THREE  SCOUTS  REPORT  FOR  OR 
DERS  AT  CAMP  APACHE— "THIS  IS  A  TRAP;  MEN 
WILL  LEAVE  THIS  POST  WHO  WILL  NEVER  RE 
TURN  ALIVE!  BUT  WE  MUST  MAKE  THE  BLUFF"— A 
PERILOUS  JOURNEY— BETRAYED  BY  DEAD  SHOT 
AND  DANDY  JIM— AMBUSH  AT  CIBICU  CANON— LOSS 
OF  LEADER— ELEVEN  WOUNDED;  DESERTED  BY  IN 
DIAN  SCOUTS— HORN  SAVES  THE  COMMAND.. 94-102 

CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  FORT  FIRED  UPON,  "THIS  MEANT  WAR"— HORN 
SENT  TO  WHITE  MOUNTAINS  AND  RETURNS  WITH 
SIXTY  OF  PEDRO'S  PICKED  BRAVES— "TOM  HORN 
AND  HIS  WAR  DOGS"  ON  THE  RENEGADES'  TRAIL- 
INDIAN  ATROCITIES— CHAFFEE,  SIEBER  AND  KEHOE 
JOIN  THE  CHASE,  "TIRED,  BUT  FULL  OF  FIGHT"— 
AT  BAY  IN  CHEVLON'S  CANON— BLOCKING  THE 
ONLY  EXIT— A  DEADLY  TRAP— HEAVY  STORM  STOPS 
FIGHT— "MAJOR  CHAFFEE  TOO  WET  AND  COLD  TO 
SWEAR!"— A  BEAR  STORY 103-113 

CHAPTER  XII. 

HORN  "GETS"  FOUR  BAD  INDIANS  WANTED  AT  CAMP 
APACHE— HORN  IS  "THREATENED"  WITH  A  GOVERN 
MENT  MEDAL  FOR  BRAVERY— "I  DID  NOTHING 
VERY  GREAT"— THE  MEDAL  STILi^  WANTING— SIEBER 
AND  HORN  BEFORE  INVESTIGATING  COMMITTEE- 
BORDER  JUSTICE  TO  HORSE-THIEVES  DEALT  UNDER 
HORN'S  DIRECTIONS— UNEXPECTED  INTERRUPTION 
BY  DEPARTMENT  COMMANDER  AND  DEPARTMENT 
INSPECTOR  — A  ROW  AND  RECONCILIATION  —  A 
CLEVER  INDIAN  TRICK 114-124 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

ORDERS  TO  REPORT  AT  CAMP  APACHE,  CAMP  VERDE 
AND  FORT  WHIPPLE— SIEBER  AND  "SIEBER'S  BOY" 
ENJOY  A  FINE  TRIP— GENERAL  GEORGE  A.  CROOK 
SUPERSEDES  GENERAL  WILCOX  AS  DEPARTMENT 
COMMANDER— MORE  DEPREDATIONS— SIEBER  AND 
HORN,  "AN  ARMED  FORCE,"  INVADE  MEXICO— 
RED-TAPED,  LONG-DRAWN  ELABORATE  INVESTI 
GATION  —  GOVERNMENTAL  "CENSURE"  —  GENERAL 
CROOK  ARRIVES— BIG  INDIAN  COUNCIL— UNITED 
STATES-MEXICAN  TREATY— SIEBER  AND  HORN  RE 
VISIT  TOMBSTONE— A  TOO  WARM  WELCOME 125-133 


10  TABLE   OF   CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

i  ages. 

INDIAN  TROUBLES  BEGIN  IN  EARNEST— "PEACHES"  AND 
HORN  AS  "TALK  CARRIERS"— GERONIMO  WOULD 
HAVE  A  "PEACE  TALK"— GENERAL  CROOK  GOES  TO 
MEET  GERONIMO  —  SMUGGLERS  VERSUS  CUSTOM 
GUARDS— "NOT  HONEST,  BUT  HONORABLE"— GER- 
ONIMO'S  HOSTAGES  AND  CAMP— HORN  MUST  INTER 
PRET—AN  INDIAN'S  TRIBUTE  TO  HORN'S  TUTOR 
(SIEBER);  "THE  OLD  MAD  WHITE  MAN,  A  MAN  OF 
WAR  AND  A  MAN  OF  TRUTH" 134-145 

CHAPTER  XV. 

SYNOPSIS  OF  GENERAL  CROOK'S  SPEECH  IN  GERONIMO'S 
COUNCIL— "IT  MUST  BE  WAR  OR  PEACE!"— DEEP 
IMPRESSION  MADE  BY  GENERAL  CROOK— WHAT 
WILL  GERONIMO  DO?  SIEBER  AND  HORN  SUM 
MONED  AS  ADVISERS  TO  THE  TRIBE  COUNCIL;  THE 
ONLY  WHITE  MEN  ADMITTED— "TAKE  YOUR  KNIFE, 
TOM;  STAND  WTHILE  YOU  INTERPRET,  FORGET  THAT 
YOU  MAY  NOT  LIVE  ONE  MINUTE,  AND  THINK  ONLY 
OF  THE  TALK"— THE  WAR  CHIEF  SPEAKS— ETI 
QUETTE  OF  AN  INDIAN  COUNCIL— THE  ELOQUENT 
SILENCE  OF  THE  RED  MAN— SIEBER'S  ADVICE, 
"WORDS  OF  WISDOM  AND  TRUTH" 146-158 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

GERONIMO  ANSWERS  GENERAL  CROOK— THE  RED  COM 
MANDER  OUTWITS  THE  WHITE  COMMANDER,  AND 
THE  GOVERNMENT  IS  MADE  ACCESSORY  TO  THEFT 
—HORN  BECOMES  CHIEF  OF  SCOUTS  TO  SUCCEED 
SIEBER  —  TRIBUTE  TO  SIEBKR  —  TWENTY  -  FIVE 
APACHE  SCOUTS  ENLISTED;  MICKY  FREE  AS  FIRST 
SERGEANT— THEIR  "MILITARY"  APPEARANCE— AN 
APACHE  "OUTFIT"  —  XMAS  DINNER  AT  CAMP 
APACHE— GATE  WOOD'S  TROUBLES  WITH  GERON 
IMO'S  PEOPLE  —  HORN  ORDERS  CHIR1CAHUAS 
COUNTED  AT  SUNRISE  AND  SUNSET— JOINS  HIS 
SCOUTS  AT  CAMP  THOMAS 159-171 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

AFTER  THE  RAIDERS— APACHE  SMOKE  SIGNALS— APACHE 
HUMOR— HORN  GATHERS  HIS  SCATTERED  SCOUTS 
AND  IS  JOINED  BY  TWENTY  TROOPERS  (LIEUTENANT 
WILDER)  AND  A  DOZEN  COWBOYS— IN  AMBUSH  FOR 


TABLE  OF   CONTENTS.  11 

Pages. 

THE  RAIDERS— "YOU  MUST  OBEY  ME;  I  WILL  CUT 
THE  THROAT  OF  THE  MAN  WHO  DOES  NOT  DO  AS 
I  SAY!"— THE  FIVE-MINUTES'  FIGHT.  NOT  A  FOE  TO 
TELL  THE  STORY ! 172-183 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

HORN  WINS  THE  APPROVAL  OF  BOTH  BURKE  AND 
SIEBER— A  BREATHING  SPELL— VITIS ING  THE  BIG 
RANCHES— BACK  TO  CAMP  APACHE— THE  CHIRICA- 
HUAS  BECOMING  RESTLESS— THE  VERGE  OF  AN 
OTHER  OUTBREAK— INTERCEPTING  MORE  APACHE 
RAIDERS— A  SURPRISE  AND  A  SCATTERMENT— A 
"BIG,  HEALTHY,  GREASY  SQUAW  TREED"— BRANDY 
AS  A  PERSUADER  TO  TELLING  TALES— GERONIMO 
AND  THE  ENTIRE  TRIBE  BREAK  OUT  AGAIN— THE 
MEXICAN  RENDEZVOUS— PLANNING  TO  THWART 
THE  RENEGADES 184-liH 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

NO  MORE  BLUFF,  BUT  REAL  OLD  BUSINESS— CIVILIZING 
GERONIMO  A  HOPELESS  TASK— GENERAL  CROOK 
ARRIVES— PREPARATIONS  FOR  WAR— A  SIDE-TRIP 
SCRIMMAGE— DANGER  AND  IRISH  WIT,  GUNS  AND 
TONGUES  —  SERGEANT  NOLAN  AND  THE  INDIAN 
"LADIES"— PLAN  OF  CAMPAIGN— CHIRICAHUA  BAND, 
BENT  ON  VENGEANCE,  RAID  UP  TO  WHITE  MOUN 
TAIN  CAMP— HALZAY  "LOSES  HIS  HEAD"— HORN 
AND  TEN  SCOUTS  "HIT  THE  TRAIL"— THE  LAN 
GUAGE  OF  A  COLD  TRAIL:  TRACKS,  SIDE  TRAILS, 
SMELL  OF  ROASTING  MUSCAL,  SHADOWS  OF  CAMP- 
FIRES  TEN  MILES  AHEAD— "WE  HAD  LOCATED  THE 
MAIN  CAMP  AT  LAST!"— SENDING  FOR  CAPTAIN 
CRAWFORD  AND  THE  TROOPS 195-207 

CHAPTER  XX. 

FORCES  DIVIDED  INTO  FOUR  GROUPS  UNDER  CRAW 
FORD,  MAUS,  SHIPP  AND  HORN— ATTACK  UPON  GER- 
ONIMO'3  CAMP  — COMPLETE  ROUT  —  A  "SIEBER 
BLUFF"— HORN  CAPTURES  NANA— THE  OLD  CHIEF'S 
"GROWL"  —  GERONIMO  SENDS  MESSENGER;  HE 
WOULD  TALK— CHIRICAHUA  SQUAWS  AS  MOURNERS 
— 1TUCH  NEEDED  REST...  ...208-217 


12  TABLE   OF   CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

UNWARRANTED  ATTACK  BY  MEXICANS  UNDER  CORRE- 
DOR— "FOR  GOD'S  SAKE,  CHIEF,  CAN'T  YOU  STOP 
THEM?"— THE  DEATH  OF  CAPTAIN  EMMET  CRAW 
FORD—LIEUTENANT  MAUS  IN  COMMAND— THIRTY- 
SEVEN  KILLED,  FIFTEEN  WOUNDED  —  HORN  AS 
TRUCE-BEARER— "IF  I  AM  HARMED,  MY  APACHE 
SCOUTS  WILL  KILL  EVERY  MOTHER'S  SON  OF  YOU!" 
—A  MEXICAN  TRICK— COMING  TO  TERMS— CHIHUA 
HUA  WOULD  TALK— DISSATISFACTION  AMONG  GER- 
ONIMO'S  FOLLOWERS  —  BURIAL  OF  CRAWFORD- 
HORN'S  REPUTATION  INCREASED  —  LIEUTENANT 
MAUS  LAUDS  HIS  CHIEF  OF  SCOUTS...  ...218-231 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

MAUS  AND  HORN  REPORT  TO  GENERAL  CROOK  AT 
BOWIE— SURRENDER  OF  CHIHUAHUA— GERONIMO 
RETURNS  TO  WARPATH— CROOK  SUPERSEDED  BY 
MILES  AS  DEPARTMENT  COMMANDER HORN  RE 
DUCED  FROM  CHIEF  OF  SCOUTS  TO  INTERPRETER- 
HE  RESIGNS  AND  GOES  TO  MINING— HORN  RE 
CALLED  BY  PERSONAL  LETTER  FROM  MILES— AN 
EXCITING  INDIAN  CHASE— HORN  BRINGS  IN  GER 
ONIMO  AND  DISPATCHES  FOR  MILES— MILES  WILL 
NOT  DO  BUSINESS  THROUGH  A  CIVILIAN— GERONIMO 
WILL  NOT  DO  BUSINESS  THROUGH  A  SOLDIER- 
HORN  LEAVES  CAMP— DISPATCH  FROM  MILES  TO 
HORN:  "MAKE  YOUR  OWN  ARRANGEMENTS  FOR 
ME  TO  MEET  GERONIMO"— HORN  PERSUADES  THE 
RENEGADE  CHIEF  TO  A  SECOND  INTERVIEW— GER 
ONIMO  •  SURRENDERS  —  REMARKABLE  FEAT  OF 
WASSE— THE  SCOUTS  DISBANDED— HORN  RETURNS 
TO  MINING 232-248 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE  RUSTLERS'  WAR— HORN  CALLED  AS  MEDIATOR- 
BECOMES  DEPUTY  SHERIFF  OF  YAVAPAI  COUNTY- 
OUTBREAK  OF  "APACHE  KID"— TOGA'S  HEART  SPLIT 
IN  TWO— SIEBER,  ONE  AGAINST  ELEVEN— "APACHE 
KID'S"  SURRENDER— HE  KILLS  GUARDS  AND  ES 
CAPES—ROPING  CONTEST  AMONG  COWBOYS— HORN 
BREAKS  RECORD— HORN  GOES  TO  DENVER  TO 
WORK  FOR  PINKERTON  NATIONAL  DETECTIVE 


TABLE   OF   CONTENTS.  13 

Pages. 

AGENCY  — A  TRAIN  ROBBERY  CASE  —  HORN  CAP 
TURES  "PEG  LEG"  WATSON— HORN  AND  STEWART 
RUN  DOWN  JOE  M'COY— HORN  QUITS  THE  PINKER- 
TONS  AND  GOES  TO  WORK  FOR  THE  SWAN  LAND 
AND  CATTLE  COMPANY  OF  WYOMING— LIFE  STORY 
CONTINUED  IN  YELLOW  JOURNALS 249-263 


SUPPLEMENTARY   ARTICLES 


LETTERS—  Pages. 

NO.    1— OWNBEY  TO  HORN 267 

NO.    2— HORN  TO  COBLE 269 

NO.    3— HORN  TO  CHAS.  IRWIN 271 

NO.    4— HORN   TO   OHNHAUS 272 

NO.    5— HORN  TO  COBLE 275 

NO.    6— HORN  TO  COBLE 277 

NO.    7— HORN  TO  COBLE 279 

NO.    8— HORN  TO  COBLE 283 

NO.    9— HORN  TO  COBLE 283 

NO  10— CHAS.  HORN  TO  J.  C.  COBLE 285 

MISS  KIMMELL'S  STATEMENT 287-309 

"LIFE'S  RAILWAY  TO  HEAVEN" 310 

STATEMENT  BY  AL  SIEBER 311-314 

CLOSING  WORDS  BY  J.  C.  COBLE...  ...315-317 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


Op.  Page 

1— TOM  HORN Title  Page 

2— HORN'S   BIRTHPLACE 20 

3-TOM   HORN'S   FATHER 40 

4— TOM  HORN'S  MOTHER 60 

5— FORT    BOWIE 80 

6— GEN.    GEORGE    CROOK 126 

7— GEN.    LAWTON 192 

S-GERONIMO    244 

9— E.  W.— ONE  OF  HORN'S  FAVORITE  HORSES 260 

10— GLENDOLENE   MYRTLE   KIMMELL 287 

11— LETTER  FROM  GOV.  CHATTERTON 303 

12— CHAS.  AND  FRANK  IRWIN 310 

13— JOHN   C.    COBLE...  ...316 


CHAPTER  I. 

Horn's  Boyhood— His  Dog  "Shed."— Bennie,  the  Model 
Bov — Horn  Leaves  Home  for  the  West. 


I  was  born  near  Memphis,  Scotland  County,  Mis 
souri,  November  21,  1860 — a  troublesome  time,  to  be 
sure;  and  anyone  born  in  Missouri  is  bound  to  see  trouble 
— so  says  Bill  Nye. 

Up  to  the  time  I  left  home  I  suppose  I  had  more 
trouble  than  any  man  or  boy  in  Missouri.  We  had  Sun 
day  schools  and  church,  and  as  my  mother  was  a  good 
old-fashioned  Campbellite,  I  was  supposed  to  go  to 
church  and  Sunday  school,  as  did  most  of  the  boys  and 
girls  in  the  neighborhood.  I  had  three  brothers  and  four 
sisters,  and  there  was  not  one  of  them  but  acted  as 
though  he  really  liked  to  go  to  those  places.  I  had 
nothing  particular  against  going,  if  it  had  not  been  for 
the  'coon,  turkey,  quail,  rabbits,  prairie  chickens,  'pos 
sums,  skunks  and  other  game  of  that  kind,  with  once  in 
a  season  a  fat,  corn-fed  deer;  and  they  were  all  neglected 
to  such  an  extent  by  the  rest  of  the  family,  that  it  kept 
me  busy  most  every  Sunday,  and  many  nights  through 
the  week,  to  do  what  I  considered  right  in  trying  to  keep 
on  proper  terms  with  the  game. 

I  would  steal  out  the  gun  and  take  the  dog  and  hunt 
all  day  Sunday  and  many  a  night  through  the  week, 
knowing  full  well  that  whenever  I  did  show  up  at  home 


18  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  : 

I  would  get.  a  whipping  or  a  scolding  from  my  mother 
or  a  regular  thumping  from  father. 

My  mother  was  a  tall,  powerful  woman,  and  she 
would  whip  me  and  cry,  and  tell  me  how  much  good  she 
was  trying  to  do  me  by  breaking  me  of  my  Indian  ways, 
so  she  called  them  (though  I  had  never  seen  an  Indian, 
and  did  not  know  what  their  ways  were).  Then  if  a 
skunk  or  'coon  or  fox  came  along  and  carried  off  one  of 
her  chickens  during  the  night,  at  daylight  she  would 
wake  me  and  give  me  the  gun  and  tell  me  to  take  old 
"Shedrick,"  the  dog,  and  go  and  follow  up  the  varmint 
and  kill  it. 

For  a  kid,  I  must  have  been  a  very  successful  hunter, 
for  when  our  neighbors  would  complain  of  losing  a 
chicken  (and  that  was  a  serious  loss  to  them),  mother 
would  tell  them  that  whenever  any  varmint  bothered 
her  hen-roosts,  she  just  sent  out  Tom  and  "Shed.,"  and 
when  they  came  back  they  always  brought  the  pelt  of 
the  varmint  with  them. 

To  this  day,  I  believe  mother  thought  the  dog  was  of 
more  importance  against  varmints  than  I  was.  But 
"Shedrick"  and  I  both  understood  that  I  was  the  better, 
for  I  could  climb  any  tree  in  Missouri,  and  dig  frozen 
ground  with  a  pick,  and  follow  cold  tracks  in  the  mud  or 
snow,  and  knew  more  than  the  dog  in  a  good  many  ways. 
Still,  I  think,  even  yet,  that  there  never  was  a  better  dog. 
I  always  thought  "Shed."  could  whip  any  dog  in  Missouri 
(and  at  that  time  I  did  not  know  there  was  any  other 
place  than  Missouri,  except,  perhaps,  Iowa.  I  knew  of 
Iowa,  because  one  of  our  neighbors  came  from  there). 
But  I  had  many  a  hard  fight  myself  to  keep  up  the  rep 
utation  of  old  "Shed.,"  for  as  he  began  to  get  old  and 


A    VINDICATION.  19 

wise,  I  do  believe  he  thought  I  would  always  help  him. 
Once  in  a  while  Dad  would  go  to  an  election  or  public  sale 
or  horse  race  or  something,  and  "Shed."  would  go  with 
him  and  sometimes  the  dog  would  get  whipped.  When  he 
did  get  whipped  he  always  came  home  looking  pretty 
badly  used  up,  and  after  an  occurrence  of  that  kind, 
"Shed."  would  not  leave  me  for  days. 

I  recollect  a  family  of  boys  named  Griggs  who  had 
what  they  always  claimed  was  the  best  'coon  dog  and  the 
best  fighter  in  the  world;  (Missouri  or  our  neighborhood 
was  the  world  to  them),  and  now  I  think  he  must  have 
been  a  good  dog  and  no  mistake;  but  at  that  time  I  did 
certainly  hate  him.  Whenever  the  Griggs  boys  and  I 
ran  together,  we  had  a  dog  fight,  and  the  termination 
of  the  meeting  was  always  a  fight  between  Sana  Griggs 
and  myself.  I  also  distinctly  recollect  that  on  nearly 
every  occasion  "Shed."  and  I  both  went  home  pretty 
badly  used  up.  Sam  Griggs  always  said  I  helped  "Shed.'' 
and  he  would  try  to  keep  me  from  doing  so;  then  Sam  and 
I  would  mix.  I  guess  we  fought  a  hundred  times  and  he 
always  quit  when  he  "had  his  satisfy"  for  I  never  did 
nor  could  lick  him. 

The  Griggs  dog  was  named  "Sandy"  (because  he  was 
yellow7,  I  suppose),  and  my  argument  always  was  that 
my  dog  "Shed."  knew  more  than  "Sandy."  To  illustrate, 
once  Sam  Griggs  was  up  in  a  tree  to  shake  off  a  'coon  for 
"Sandy"  to  kill.  A  limb  of  the  tree  broke  and  down 
came  Sam,  and  "Sandy"  jumped  on  him  and  bit  his  ear 
and  bit  him  in  the  arm  and  shoulder  and  used  Sam  up 
pretty  badly  before  he  could  get  "Sandy"  to  understand 
that  he  was  not  a  'coon  or  a  wild  cat.  I  alwavs  claimed 


20  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

that  "Shed."  would  have  had  more  sense  than  to  jump 
on  me  if  I  had  been  fool  enough  to  fall  out  of  a  tree. 

My  mother  was  always  anxious  to  have  all  the  chil 
dren  go  to  school  during  the  winter  months,  and  I  always 
had  to  go,  or  to  start  anyway;  but  all  the  natural  in 
fluences  of  the  country  were  against  my  acquiring  much 
of  an  education.  During  the  summer  we  had  to  work 
on  the  farm,  and  work  hard  and  long  hours  putting 
in  crops  and  tending  to  them.  Thus  I  had  little  legiti 
mate  time  to  fish  and  hunt  bee  trees.  So  when 
winter  came  and  the  work  was  all  done  and  the  crops 
all  in,  I  wanted  to  go  and  look  after  the  game,  but  as  I 
was  ordered  to  go  to  school,  I  had  to  go. 

The  first  natural  influence  of  any  importance  was  that 
the  school  house  was  a  mile  from  the  house  we  lived  in, 
and  there  was  always  more  or  less  snow  on  the  ground 
in  winter,  and  on  the  trail  to  school  I  would  always  be 
finding  fresh  rabbit  or  'coon  or  cat  tracks  crossing  the 
trail  to  school.  I  never  could  cross  a  fresh  track,  for  I 
would  see  one  and  the  rest  of  the  children  would  pay 
no  attention  to  it,  so  I  would  follow  it  a  little  ways  just 
to  see  which  way  it  went,  and  then  I  would  go  on  a  little 
farther,  and  then  I  would  say  to  myself,  "I  will  be  late 
for  school  and  get  licked."  Then  an  overpowering  de 
sire  to  get  that  rabbit  or  'coon  or  wild  cat,  as  it  happened 
to  be,  would  overcome  me,  and  I  would  go  back  in  the 
orchard  behind  the  house,  call  the  dog  and  as  he  would 
come  running  to  me,  the  stuff  for  school  was  all  off,  and 
"Shed."  and  I  would  go  hunting.  So  you  see,  had  the 
school  house  been  nearer,  I  could  have  gotten  there  a 
great  deal  oftener  than  I  did. 


V  ••  f 


A    VINDICATION.  21 

I  could  never  keep  my  mind  on  my  books  when  I  was 
at  school,  for  if  it  happened  to  commence  to  snow  I  could 
not  help  thinking  about  how  fine  it  would  be  to  trail  'coon 
on  the  morrow,  and  I  would  speculate  a  good  deal  more 
on  the  skins  of  the  varmints  I  could  catch,  and  could  see 
far  more  advantage  in  having  a  good  string  of  pelts  than 
in  learning  to  read,  write  and  cipher. 

Things  were  beginning  to  get  rather  binding  on  me 
about  this  time  any  way,  as  a  cousin  named  Ben  Markley 
came  to  live  with  us.  He  was  a  son  of  my  mother's 
sister,  and  I  guess  he  was  the  best  boy  in  the  world. 
Oh,  how  many  hundred  times  I  wras  whipped  or  scolded 
and  asked  by  father,  or  mother  or  school  teacher,  why 
I  did  not  do  as  Bennie  did. 

Ben  never  forgot  to  wash  or  comb  his  hair.  He  never 
swore.  He  could  walk  to  school  and  not  get  his  boots 
muddy.  One  pair  of  boots  would  last  him  as  long  as 
four  pairs  would  me.  He  never  whispered  in  school; 
never  used  tobacco.  He  never  went  hunting  nor  fishing 
on  Sunday,  and  never  wranted  to.  He  never  had  any 
fights  and  he  would  talk  of  an  evening  about  what  the 
lesson  would  be  in  Sunday  school  next  Sunday.  Those 
were  some  of  his  good  points,  but  not  all  for  he  was  held 
up  as  a  model  of  perfection  by  everybody.  Of  course 
my  opinion  of  him  was  different. 

I  knew  he  could  not  shoot.  He  could  not  climb  a 
tree.  He  did  not  know  a  'coon  track  from  a  cow  track. 
He  was  afraid  of  bees  when  a  bee  tree  was  to  be  robbed. 
He  said  'coon  skins  were  nasty,  and  skunks  he  could  not 
go  at  all.  He  did  not  know  how  to  bait  a  hook  to  fish. 
He  could  not  swim,  was  afraid  of  horses,  and  once  he 
struck  old  "Shedrick"  with  a  piece  of  hoop  pole.  I  had 


22  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

known  a  long  time  before  this  that  he  was  a  failure,  so 
far  as  I  estimated  boys,  so  when  he  struck  the  sharer  of 
my  joys  and  sorrows,  I  jumped  onto  him.  I  was  about 
13  and  he  was  about  17,  but  I  had  him  whipped  before 
my  mother  and  the  rest  of  the  family  could  get  me  off 
him.  Dad  was  there  but  he  did  not  try  to  help  the 
women  pull  me  off,  for  I  do  think  Ben  was  a  little  too 
good  for  him. 

Well,  after  that,  "Shed."  and  I  left  him  alone  and  he 
put  in  a  good  deal  of  his  spare  time  leaving  us  alone. 
That  row  with  Bennie  made  me  no  favorite  with  the 
women  folks;  something  that  was  of  little  importance 
to  me. 

The  climax  to  my  home  life  came  the  next  spring. 
Some  emigrants  were  going  along  the  road,  and  behind 
the  wagons  were  two  boys  on  one  horse,  bareheaded,  and 
one  of  them  had  an  old,  single-barreled  shot  gun.  They 
met  "Shed."  and  me  on  the  road  and  stopped  to  talk  to 
us.  I  remarked  that  a  man  who  shot  game  with  a  shot 
gun  was  no  good.  The  oldest  one  of  the  boys  asked  me 
if  I  called  myself  a  man,  and  the  answer  that  I  made  him 
caused  them  both  to  get  off  their  old  mare,  and  tie  her 
to  the  fence.  The  younger  and  smaller  of  the  two  held 
the  gun  and  the  big  one  and  I  started  to  scrap.  Things 
were  looking  so  unfavorable  to  the  boy  I  was  fighting 
with  that  the  smaller  boy  laid  his  gun  down  on  the 
ground  and  was  going  to  help  his  brother.  He  gave  me 
a  kick  in  the  jaw  as  a  preliminary;  but  he  never  smiled 
again.  Old  "Shed."  sprang  and  caught  him  and  threw 
him  down  and  bit  him  in  the  arm  and  shoulder  in  doing 
it.  That  stopped  the  fight  between  the  other  boy  and 


A    VINDICATION.  23 

me,  as  I  had  to  let  the  big  one  go  to  take  care  that 
"Shed."  did  not  hurt  the  small  one  too  much. 

Well,  I  took  the  dog  off  and  told  them  they  had  better 
get  on  their  old  mare  and  go  and  get  the  rest  of  the 
family  if  they  wanted  to  win  a  fight,  and  then  the  big  one 
picked  up  the  gun  and  helped  the  small  boy  on  the  mare, 
and  he  raised  the  gun  and  shot  poor,  old  "Shed."  "Shed.'' 
whined  and  I  could  scarcely  believe  such  a  thing  had 
been  done.  The  big  boy  then  got  on  the  mare  with  the 
other  one  and  they  went  off  at  a  gallop.  I  carried  "Shed." 
home,  which  was  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away,  and  he 
died  that  night. 

I  believe  that  was  the  first  and  only  real  sorrow  of 
my  life. 

Dad  got  on  his  horse  and  went  and  overtook  the  emi 
grant  train  that  night,  and  I  guess  there  was  "something 
doin,"  for  he  came  home  that  night  before  "Shed."  died 
and  he  was  pretty  badly  done  up  himself.  Dad  was 
called  the  hardest  man  to  whip  in  Northwest  Missouri, 
but  when  he  came  home  that  night  he  looked  to  me  like 
a  man  who  had  had  at  least  what  I  would  have  called 
enough. 

I  was  about  fourteen  years  old  by  this  time  and  I 
wanted  to  go  somewhere.  I  had  heard  of  California  and 
thought  that  would  be  a  good  place  to  go.  Dad  and  I 
had  a  disagreement  one  day  and  he  had  the  trace  of  a 
single  buggy  harness  in  his  hand,  and  he  struck  at  me 
with  it.  I  grabbed  it  and  then  the  fight  was  on. 

Well,  I  tried  to  do  something,  but  the  old  man  was 
too  much  for  me.  When  I  saw  I  was  in  for  a  daisy,  I 
told  him  to  just  help  himself,  as  it  was  his  last  time,  for 
I  was  going  to  leave  home. 


24  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

He  helped  himself,  and  when  he  got  through,  he  said: 
"Now,  if  you  are  going  to  leave  home,  go!  and  just  re 
member  that  the  last  time  the  old  man  whipped  you,  he 
gave  you  a  good  one.  Go,"  he  said,  "but  ask  your 
mother  for  a  lunch  to  take  with  you.  You  will  be  back 
by  night  if  you  start  in  the  morning,  and  if  you  take  a 
lunch  with  you,  you  won't  miss  your  dinner." 

This  happened  at  the  barn.  I  lay  down  on  the  hay 
and  lay  there  all  night.  Next  morning,  mother  and  the 
girls  carried  me  to  the  house  and  put  me  in  bed  where  1 
lay  for  a  week.  Dad  had  done  his  work  well. 

As  soon  as  i  could  get  around,  I  sold  my  rifle  for 
$11.00,  kissed  my  mother  for  the  last  time  in  my  life, 
went  out  and  took  a  look  at  old  "Shedrick's"  grave,  got 
a  lunch  and  started  West. 


A    VINDICATION.  25 


CHAPTER  II. 


Horn  Becomes  Overland  Mail  and  Stage  Driver — Night 
Rider,  Boss  of  Quartermaster's  Herd,  Government 
Interpreter — Siber  Kills  Chugadeslona — Siber  and 
Horn  Visit  Pedro,  Chief  of  Friendly  Apaches. 


I  had,  of  course,  heard  of  the  West,  California,  Texas 
and  Kansas  also,  but  from  all  the  geography  I  had  picked 
up  at  school  I  could  not  form  any  idea  as  to  the  location 
or  character  of  these  places.  I  had  not  the  faintest  idea, 
except  that  I  supposed  they  were  West. 

There  was  no  railroad  there,  and  as  I  had  no  horse 
nor  team,  I  started  on  foot.  I  headed  West,  and  walked 
and  walked  day  after  day,  stopping  at  farm  houses  to  get 
my  grub;  and  many  a  good  woman  would  give  me  a 
hmch  to  take  with  me.  I  never  went  hungry,  and  as  it 
was  in  July  and  August,  I  could  sleep  anywhere.  One 
woman,  named  Mrs.  Peters,  made  me  stay  all  day  at  her 
house,  and  wear  some  of  her  son's  clothes  while  she 
washed  mine  and  started  me  out  into  the  world  again  as 
clean  as  a  new  dollar. 

When  I  got  to  Kansas  City  I  spent  the  first  cent  since 
I  left  home. 

I  stayed  in  Kansas  City  two  days  and  then  hired  to 
an  employment  agency  to  go  to  Newton,  Kansas,  to  work 
on  the  Santa  Fe  railroad. 


26  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  : 

I  worked  on  the  railroad  at  Newton  about  twenty-six 
days  and  got  |21.00  for  it,  and  then  went  with  a  man 
named  Blades  with  his  two  teams  on  toward  Santa  Fe. 
Traveling  in  this  way,  and  with  freighters,  I  finally 
reached  Santa  Fe  in  the  latter  part  of  1874,  just  about 
Christmas  time,  in  fact.  Up  to  the  time  I  left  home  I 
had  never  been  five  miles  away  but  once,  and  that  was 
when  I  went  to  the  County  Seat  of  our  County — Memphis 
—a  town  of  perhaps  7,000. 

By  the  time  I  got  to  Santa  Fe  I  was  a  different  boy 
from  what  I  was  when  I  left  home.  I  was  getting  wis 
dom — and  gray-backs.  In  January,  1875,  I  hired  out  to 
Mr.  Murray,  Superintendent  of  the  Overland  Mail  Route, 
that  ran  from  Santa  Fe  to  Prescott,  Arizona. 

I  drove  from  Santa  Fe  to  Los  Pinos  for  a  couple  of 
months  for  $50.00  a  month,  and  was  furnished  a  rifle  to 
guard  the  mail  and  protect  the  passengers  and  keep  up 
appearances,  I  guess.  Then  I  was  sent  on  to  drive  from 
Los  Pinos  to  Bacon  Springs  or  Crane's  Ranch.  I  drove 
a  couple  of  months  there,  and  in  May  I  was  called  in  to 
Santa  Fe  by  Mr.  Murray,  and  sent  with  another  man  to 
the  Beaver  Head  Station,  close  to  the  Verde  River,  in 
Arizona,  to  take  mules  to  replace  some  stolen  by  the 
Indians. 

So  within  a  year  from  the  time  I  left  home  I  was  on 
the  Beaver  Head  Creek,  in  the  heart  of  the  Indian  coun 
try,  and  could  speak  Mexican  fairly  well. 

My  feelings  were  so  different  and  my  life  was  so  differ 
ent  from  what  it  was  at  home  that  it  seemed  to  me  then 
as  though  I  had  been  all  my  life  on  a  stage  line. 

I  left  Beaver  Head  and  went  down  the  river  to  Camp 
Verde,  a  government  post,  but  I  was  not  traveling  on  foot 


A    VINDICATION.  27 

any  more,  for  I  had  a  good  horse,  saddle,  bridle,  and  a 
Winchester  rifle.  That  Fall  I  went  to  work  for  George 
Hansen,  herding  oxen  at  night  for  the  men  hauling  wood 
into  Camp  Verde.  I  got  $75.00  a  month  for  three  months, 
and  five  years  ago,  George  Hansen  told  me  I  was  the 
best  night  herder  he  ever  saw.  Nearly  all  the  teamsters 
and  choppers  were  Mexicans,  and  at  Christmas  when  I 
left  there  and  went  to  Prescott,  I  could  speak  Mexican 
as  well  as  a  native  could.  It  had  taken  me  just  about 
a  year  to  get  from  Santa  Fe  to  Prescott,  but  I  had  learned 
more  in  that  year  than  in  all  my  previous  life. 

The  cavalry  horses  for  the  Department  of  Arizona  all 
came  overland  from  California  at  that  time,  and  they 
came  in  big  bunches  of  about  400  each,  so  I  hired  out  to 
the  Quartermaster  to  herd  these  horses  till  the  different 
posts  sent  and  got  their  allowance,  Ft.  Whipple,  right 
at  Prescott,  being  the  Department  Headquarters.  There 
were  three  of  us  to  do  the  work,  and  as  the  other  two 
were  Mexicans  and  I  was  an  American,  although  only 
sixteen  years  old,  I  was  made  boss  of  the  Quartermaster's 
herd. 

When  all  the  cavalry  horses  were  issued  to  the  differ 
ent  troops  of  the  Fifth  Cavalry,  I  was  out  of  a  job,  and 
Al.  Sieber,  Chief  of  Scouts,  came  into  Whipple  from  Tonto 
Basin  and  stayed  a  couple  of  weeks,  and  when  he  was 
getting  ready  to  go  back  south  he  asked  me  how  I  would 
like  to  go  with  him  as  Mexican  interpreter  at  $75.00  a 
month.  He  told  me  I  would  be  with  him  all  the  time, 
and  I  was  tickled  to  get  a  chance  to  go,  so  in  July  of  '76 
we  set  out  for  San  Carlos  Agency,  where  we  arrived  in 
about  ten  davs. 


28  LIFE  OP  TOM  HORN: 

My  work,  as  I  found  out,  was  nothing  at  all.  Sieber 
just  wanted  me  because  I  was  young  and  active  and 
could  travel  with  him  all  day  and  herd  the  horses  at 
night,  and  do  the  cooking  and  tend  to  the  packs  and 
clean  his  gun  every  night;  and  all  of  this  was  fun  for  me. 

The  San  Carlos,  or  Apache  Reservation,  was  sixty 
miles  wide  and  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  long,  and 
Sieber  and  I,  with  a  few  Indian  scouts  and  police,  were 
on  the  go  all  the  balance  of  the  year  around  on  the  reser 
vation.  Sieber  was  keeping  an  eye  on  the  peace  and  con 
duct  of  the  Indians.  Sieber  spoke  Apache  and  Mexican 
both,  and  as  there  were  always  Indians  with  us,  I  began 
to  learn  the  language  very  rapidly. 

That  was  a  glorious  time  for  me,  as  I  could  hunt  deer 
and  turkey  to  my  heart's  content,  and  if  I  would  leave 
camp  and  be  gone  all  night  to  some  Indian  camp,  Sieber 
never  said  a  word  against  it;  in  fact,  he  encouraged  it, 
as  he  saw  I  was  getting  onto  the  Indians'  ways  and  lan 
guage  very  fast. 

Sieber  was  one  of  the  grandest  men  in  the  world  in 
my  eyes,  and  although  old  and  white-headed  and  a 
cripple  for  life  now,  he  is  still  a  nobleman.  Up  to  some 
time  after  this  I  had  never  seen  Sieber's  "mad"  on  in  an 
Indian  fight  and  he  was  always,  during  our  many  years 
of  association,  as  kind  as  a  school  ma'am  to  me,  but  oh. 
what  a  terror  he  was  when  he  arose  in  his  wrath!  You 
bet  there  were  things  doin'  then. 

The  first  time  I  ever  saw  him  right  mad  was  when  we 
went  to  where  an  Indian  was  making  Tis-win  (Indian 
whiskey).  The  Indian  was  an  old  offender,  and  Sieber 
began  to  talk  to  him  in  Mexican,  which  Sieber  said  the 
Indian  understood  perfectly.  The  Indian,  whose  name 


A    VINDICATION.  29 

was  Chu-ga-de-slon-a  (which  means  "centipede"  in  Mis 
souri),  spoke  to  Sieber  in  Apache,  and  told  him  that  he 
was  always  watching  around  like  an  old  meddlesome 
squaw.  Sieber  said:  "Yes,  I  am  always  watching  such 
men  as>  you,  that  make  devil's  drink."  Chu-ga-de-slon-a 
said:  "1  have  a  notion  to  kill  you,  Jon-a-chay,"  and  that 
was  what  made  Sieber  mad.  Jon-a-chay  in  Apache  means 
"meddler." 

Well,  the  Indian  had  picked  up  his  gun  as  he  said  this, 
and  Sieber  sprang  towards  him,  and  I  guess  must  have 
pulled  his  knife  as  he  did  so,  for  he  caught  that  Indian 
by  the  hair  and  made  one  swipe  at  him  with  his  knife  and 
nearly  cut  his  head  off. 

The  Indian  had  been  fermenting  his  stuff  in  a  big 
earthen-ware  pot.  Sieber  slung  this  Indian  to  the  ground, 
looked  at  him  a  minute,  then  picked  him  up  and  threw 
him  partly  into  this  big  pot.  The  pot  would  not  hold 
the  Indian,  or  he  certainly  would  have  put  him  entirely 
in.  I  am  pretty  sure  that  I  was  scared,  anyhow  I  had 
a  very  queer  feeling. 

Sieber  turned  to  some  squaws  who  were  helping  make 
this  Tis-win  and  told  them  to  get  their  horses,  get  away 
from  there  and  go  back  where  the  rest  of  the  Indians 
were  on  White  River  and  tell  the  rest  of  the  Indians  that 
they  had  better  leave  off  making  that  stuff,  as  he,  Sieber, 
calculated  to  stop  the  biggest  part  of  the  making  of  it 
some  how.  And  when  he  caught  a  man  at  it  the  first 
time  he  would  put  him  in  the  calaboose;  but  when  he 
caught  a  man  at  it  like  the  one  he  had  just  killed,  who 
was  always  making  Tis-win,  that  he  would  just  slay  him, 
so  he  could  make  no  more  trouble  among  the  other  In 
dians  by  making  and  selling  them  Tis-win. 


30  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  I 

We  then  went  into  camp  close  by  and  stayed  a  couple 
of  days,  and  I  don't  think  Sieber  slept  a  wink  for  those 
two  days  and  nights,  also  he  had  very  little  to  say  and 
he  looked  awfully  stern  and  determined.  I  was  very 
uneasy,  myself,  as  were  the  Indians  with  us,  but  I  asked 
no  questions  of  Sieber  and  he  said  nothing  to  me  more 
than  to  keep  the  mules  and  horses  close  to  camp  and 
never  to  lay  my  gun  down  for  one  minute. 

At  the  end  of  two  days  we  broke  camp  and  went  over 
on  White  River,  and  camped  right  in  the  forks  of  White 
and  Black  Kivers.  Our  Indians  stayed  in  camp,  and 
Sieber  and  I  went  up  the  river  about  a  mile  to  the  camp 
of  a  chief  named  Pedro,  and  we  had  a  long  talk  with  the 
old  chief,  who  spoke  Spanish  perfectly. 

Pedro  had  always  been  tolerably  friendly  towards 
Sieber,  and  Sieber  told  the  old  chief  what  he  was  trying 
to  do.  Pedro  said  he  did  not  want  his  men  either  to 
make  or  to  drink  whiskey,  and  that  he  would  help  Sieber 
at  all  times.  He  also  told  Sieber  that  all  Indians  were 
not  bad,  but  that  some  of  them  were  as  good  as  any  man 
the  Great  Spirit  put  on  earth,  but  that  he  had  six  hundred 
warriors,  and  some  of  them  were  as  bad  as  a  bad  Apache 
could  be,  and  that  he  could  not  do  anything  with  them. 
He  said  that  the  bad  ones  never  got  killed,  and  they 
never  got  good  nor  old  and  disabled,  but  just  remained 
and  were  always  in  any  and  all  trouble  that  came  up. 

"You  see,  they  are  part  Devil/7  said  Pedro,  "or  they 
would  get  old  or  get  killed  some  time." 

Pedro  ordered  his  women  to  feed  us,  which  they  did, 
giving  us  roast  venison  straight,  but  it  was  well%roasted, 
and  we  ate  heartily.  Pedro  asked  Sieber  where  he  got 
me,  and  if  I  was  not  a  Mexican  half-breed,  but  Sieber  said 


A    VINDICATION.  31 

I  was  a  pure  American.  Pedro  said:  "Well,  I  hear  him 
speaking  Mexican  to  my  men  and  boys  and  that  is  the 
reason  I  thought  he  was  a  half-breed/'  Sieber  said:  "He 
is  learning  Apache  very  fast,  too." 

Pedro  then  commenced  to  talk  to  me  in  Apache.  1 
was  very  much  embarrassed  at  first,  for  Pedro,  the  great 
Chief,  Warrior,  Friend  of  the  Whites,  Counsellor  and 
Orator,  was  to  me  a  great  personage;  but  when  once  I 
got  to  talking  Apache  to  him  he  made  me  feel  at  home. 
Pedro  asked  me  to  stay  and  visit  with  him  a  few  days 
and  go  hunting  with  his  young  men,  and  I  told  him  I 
would  like  to  do  so  but  that  I  had  to  go  away  when  Sieber 
went.  Sieber  was  away  at  some  distance  talking  to  some 
old  women  and  Pedro  and  I  walked  over,  and  Pedro  asked 
Sieber  to  let  me  stay  and  visit  with  him  for  a  while.  He 
asked  Sieber  also  to  stay  but  Sieber  said  it  was  not  con 
venient  for  him  to  do  so. 

While  we  were  talking  of  this  visit  some  soldiers 
came  into  the  forks,  and  Indian  runners  came  running 
and  told  us  of  it.  It  caused  some  little  excitement,  which 
Pedro  immediately  proceeded  to  quiet. 


32  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 


CHAPTER  III. 


Micky  Free,  Scout  and  Guide — Horn  Begins  Life  Among 
the  Apaches— "The  Talking  Boy"  a  Full-Fledged  In 
dian — A  Lodge  and  Housekeeper. 


It  proved  to  be  Lieutenant  Wheeler,  of  the  Fifth  Cav 
alry,  with  about  twenty  men.  A  rumor  had  gone  into 
San  Carlos  to  the  effect  that  we  were  held  by  the  Indi 
ans,  and  Wheeler  had  come  out  to  see. 

Wheeler  was  led  by  the  famous  Micky  Free.  I  will 
here  give  a  little  sketch  of  the  pedigree  and  disposition 
of  this  still  noted  character.  Micky  Free  was  born  in 
1855,  on  the  Sonoita  River,  close  to  the  Mexican  and  Ari 
zona  line.  His  father  was  an  Irishman  named  Hughes, 
and  his  mother  was  a  Mexican  woman.  His  father  and 
mother  were  killed  in  1862  by  the  Indians,  and  he  and 
his  sister  were  carried  off  into  captivity.  Micky 
was  then  about  seven  and  his  sister  about  nine  years  old. 
He  now  spoke  both  Mexican  and  Apache  like  a  profes 
sor,  and  was  the  wildest  dare-devil  in  the  world  at  this 
time.  He  had  long,  fiery  red  hair  and  one  blue  eye,  the 
other  having  been  hooked  out  by  a  wounded  deer  when 
he  was  twelve  years  old.  He  had  a  small,  red  mustache, 
and  a  "mug"  that  looked  like  the  original  map  of  Ire 
land. 

He  was  about  twenty-one  or  twenty-two  years  old  at 
the  time  of  which  I  am  writing,  and  had  been  working 


A    VINDICATION.  33 

for  the  Government  for  several  years.  Always  consid 
ered  an  invaluable  man  by  the  Government,  he  was 
thoroughly  qualified  for  a  typical  scout  and  guide  in 
every  sense,  except  the  fact  that  he  never  had  any  re 
gard  for  his  own  life,  and  would,  with  a  smile  on  his  face, 
have  led  Wheeler  and  his  handful  of  men  against  old 
Pedro  and  his  600  warriors,  knowing  that  Pedro  could 
be  reinforced  by  1,000  more  men  in  four  hours,  and  by 
2,500  in  ten  hours.  Such  was  Micky  Free.  He  is  now 
living  on  the  White  Mountain  part  of  the  Keservation, 
and  has  a  large  Indian  family,  and  is  wealthy  in  "horses, 
cattle,  squaws  and  dogs,"  as  he  himself  puts  it. 

W^ell,  to  resume:  Sieber  and  I  went  back  down  to 
the  forks  and  met  Wheeler,  and  Sieber  and  he  had  a  long 
talk.  They  then  sent  a  squad  of  soldiers  back  to  San 
Carlos  to  report  everything  O.  K.,  and  Sieber  and  his 
party  safe  and  sound. 

Micky  Free  had  a  sweetheart  in  Pedro's  band,  and 
as  soon  as  Wheeler  made  camp  and  Sieber  and  I  showed 
up  all  right,  Micky  went  off  with  his  girl,  and  we  did 
not  see  anything  more  of  him  until  midnight,  when  I 
heard  him  challenged  by  the  soldier  guard,  and  shortly 
after  I  heard  a  hum  of  voices  in  the  dark  and  I  knew 
Micky  and  Sieber  and  Lieutenant  Wheeler  were  holding 
a  council  of  some  kind.  I  could  hear  Wheeler  and  Sieber 
talk  to  Micky  in  Spanish,  and  then  I  could  hear  them 
talk  to  one  another  in  English,  and  I  knew  there  was 
something  in  the  wind.  I  knew,  also,  when  W^heeler 
and  Sieber  talked  English  they  did  so  because  they  did 
not  want  Micky  to  understand  them.  I  could  not  hear 
what  they  were  talking  about,  and  neither  could  I  go 
to  sleep. 


34  LIFE  OF  TOM   HOEN  1 

Presently  a  voice  said  to  me,  in  Apache:  "Are  you 
the  'Talking  Boy?' "  I  was  scared  for  an  instant,  for  I 
was  fully  awake,  though  I  had  heard  no  one  move.  There 
sat  Micky  by  the  head  of  my  bed. 

Micky  saw  me  start  when  he  spoke  to  me,  and  he 
gave  a  low  laugh  as  though  he  were  tickled. 

I  told  him  I  was  the  "Talking  Boy"  (as  the  Apaches 
called  me),  and  he  said  that  the  Soldier  Captain  and 
Sieber  would  speak  with  me,  and  that  they  awaited  me. 
I  got  up  and  took  my  gun  and  went  over  to  where  Sieber 
and  Wheeler  were.  They  asked  me  how  I  would  like 
to  live  there  with  Chief  Pedro  for  a  while  by  myself — that 
is,  with  no  other  soldiers  or  scouts.  When  it  came  to 
the  question  of  living  there  a  while,  I  felt  a  little  timid; 
and  then  old  Sieber  gave  me  a  long,  fatherly  talk.  He 
said,  in  substance:  "Tom,  do  you  like  this  kind  of  life, 
and  do  you  calculate  to  follow  it?  That  is  what  I  want 
to  know  first."  I  told  him  I  did  like  it,  and  calculated 
to  follow  it  if  I  was  made  of  the  right  kind  of  stuff. 

"Now,"  said  he,  "I  want  you  to  do  what  I  am  going 
to  tell  you.  In  the  morning  take  your  horses  (I  had 
three  head)  and  go  up  and  live  with  Pedro.  Pedro  is 
a  good  man,  and  he  has  taken  a  fancy  to  you,  and  you 
are  picking  up  the  Apache  language  very  fast;  in  six 
months  you  will  speak  the  language  like  a  native.  You 
are  naturally  born  for  a  life  of  this  kind,  and  are  just 
the  right  age  to  begin.  You  are  an  excellent  shot,  a 
good  hunter,  and  after  a  few  years  of  this  kind  of  life 
you  will  become  a  good  and  valuable  man  in  the  Indian 
wars  which  will  continue  for  many  years  to  come.  Now, 
I  will  take  you  up  to  Pedro's  camp  in  the  morning  and 
leave  you  there,  for  Pedro  sent  Micky  down  here  to  ask 


A    VINDICATION.  35 

for  you,  as  he  likes  you  personally,  and  wants  very  much 
to  have  a  Government  representative  in  his  camp." 

I  told  Sieber  I  would  try  it,  and  we  then  made  ar 
rangements  about  my  pay  and  grub,  and  the  next  morn 
ing  Sieber,  Wheeler,  Micky  and  I  went  up  to  Pedro's 
camp,  and  I  turned  my  extra  horses  loose  with  the  old 
chief's  band  that  were  herded  and  looked  after  by  the  In 
dian  boys  and  girls,  and  I  saw  Sieber,  Wheeler  and  Micky 
ride  down  the  river  without  me. 

I  was  watching  them,  and  wondering  where  I  would 
get  off  at,  when  old  Pedro  said:  "Well,  my  son,  you  are  an 
Apache,  now."  Pedro  then  gave  me  a  lot  of  good  advice, 
and  called  his  son  (or  one  of  them,  for  he  had  about  forty 
children);  but  he  called  one  named  Ramon,  and  told  me 
there  was  a  brother  for  me,  and  for  me  always  to  call 
him  Chi-kis-in  (brother).  He  told  Ramon  to  treat  me  as 
a  brother. 

"And  now,"  ended  Pedro,  "my  camp  is  your  camp, 
and  my  lodge  will  be  your  lodge  till  you  set  up  one  for 
yourself.  There  are  many  fine  girls  here,  and  I  know 
several  that  are  waiting  now  to  get  a  chance  to  throw 
a  stick  at  you."  (The  custom  of  Apache  girls  is  to  throw 
a  stick  to  you  if  she  likes  you.  You  can  then  court  her 
after  their  fashion.) 

So,  here  I  was,  in  the  latter  part  of  '76,  a  full-fledged 
Indian,  living  in  Pedro's  camp  as  a  Government  agent, 
though  receiving  $75.00  a  month  as  interpreter.  I  got 
along  well,  considering  everything;  hunted  to  my  heart's 
content,  and  game  was  plentiful. 

I  made  frequent  trips  to  San  Carlos  and  Fort  Apache. 
On  one  of  my  trips  to  San  Carlos  we  met  a  herd  of  horses 
that  had  just  come  up  from  Sonora  to  be  sold  to  the  In- 


3(>  LIFE   OF    TOM    HORN  : 

dians;  stolen  in  Mexico,  so  Sieber  said.  They  were  selling 
at  from  fl2.00  to  $20.00  a  head,  and  I  bought  eight  head 
of  them;  also  bought  two  fine  Mexican  saddles  and 
bridles  for  $80.00.  I  gave  four  of  the  horses  and  a  sad 
dle  and  bridle  to  my  new  Indian  brother,  and  we  went 
back  to  Pedro's  camp  rich  and  respectable.  I  also  gave 
one  of  the  Mexicans  $5.00  for  a  fine  Mexican  blanket, 
which  I  gave  to  Chief  Pedro,  and  I  do  believe  he  thought 
more  of  that  blanket  than  he  did  of  any  squaw  he  had; 
and  he  was  sure  rich  in  squaws. 

This  was  only  a  short  time  before  Christmas  of  '76. 

The  following  morning,  after  my  new  brother  and  I 
got  back  to  Pedro's  camp,  we  were  summoned  before  the 
chief,  and  he  made  us  a  long,  fatherly  talk,  and  told  us 
how  well  fixed  we  were,  and  said  it  was  time  we  had 
a  lodge  of  our  own,  as  it  would  look  as  though  we  could 
not  make  our  own  way,  living  so  long  as  we  were  in  one 
of  his  lodges.  We  were  advised  to  buy  each  of  us  a 
wife  and  set  up  a  house  of  our  own.  This  was  given 
to  us  in  the  privacy  of  his  council  lodge.  We  were  then 
dismissed. 

That  day  my  brother  and  I  took  a  long  ride;  in  fact, 
we  went  to  Fort  Apache  to  show  off  our  new  saddles  and 
bridles.  At  Fort  Apache  my  brother  (whom  I  will  call 
Chi-kis-in  from  now  on)  met  one  of  his  sisters,  or  rather 
a  half  sister,  and  she  had  just  lost  her  buck;  another 
Indian  had  killed  him,  and  she  was  going  to  Pedro's  camp 
to  live.  She  had  four  horses  and  three  kids,  the  oldest 
about  nine  years  and  the  youngest  about  six  years  old, 
and  she  had  also  five  dogs.  It  was  ration  day  in  Fort 
Apache,  and  hundreds  of  Indians  were  there  drawing 
their  rations,  which  every  Indian  drew  once  a  week 


A    VINDICATION.  37 

(every  Friday).  Well,  Chi-kis-in  and  I  concluded  this  was 
the  chance  to  get  a  housekeeper,  for  it  was  a  sure  thing 
Pedro  wanted  us  to  have  a  lodge  of  our  own.  A  word  of 
advice,  I  may  add,  was  the  same  as  a  command  from 
Pedro. 

This  woman,  who  was  called  Sawn,  said  she  would  be 
our  housekeeper  if  we  would  keep  grub  in  camp.  Keep 
ing  house  in  an  Indian  camp  meant  to  do  our  washing, 
cooking,  to  tan  our  buckskins,  make  our  moccasins,  herd 
our  horses,  and,  in  fact,  do  everything  there  was  to  be 
done.  In  those  days  an  Apache  buck  did  nothing  but 
hunt. 

In  a  week's  time  we  had  a  fine  lodge  and  were  the 
proudest  "Injins"  in  camp. 


38  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  : 


CHAPTER  IV. 


Major  Chaff ee  and  First  Military  Indian  Agency — Pedro's 
"Medicine"  for  Bad  Indians — Horn  Out  of  a  Job- 
Goes  Prospecting — Tombstone,  and  Why  so  Called — 
Indian  Troubles — Interprets  Once  More — First  Ap 
pointment  With  Geronimo. 


Shortly  after  this,  which  was  early  in  '77,  I  was  called 
to  San  Carlos  by  Major  Chaffee,  (who  is  now  General 
Chaffee  of  world-wide  fame). 

Major  Chaffee  had  come  to  Arizona  in  the  fall  of  '76, 
and  early  in  '77  was  selected  by  the  Government  as 
Indian  Agent.  The  first  Military  Indian  Agency  was 
thus  established  at  San  Carlos,  all  previous  agents  had 
been  Civilian  Agents.  Indians,  newspapers  and  merchants 
all  over  the  country  said  the  Civilian  Agents  could,  would 
and  did  sell  grub,  such  as  flour,  sugar,  coffee,  soap,  baking 
powder  and  beans,  a  great  deal  cheaper  than  the  mer 
chants  could  afford  to.  I,  myself,  have  seen  grub  by  the 
twelve-mule-team-load  hauled  away.  Rations  were  sup 
posed  to  be  issued  to  12,000  Indians  every  week,  and  for 
years  not  more  than  5,000  of  them  would  come  in  for 
their  rations,  and  it  was  claimed  that  the  Civilian  Agents 
sold  the  extra  grub;  issued  the  rations  on  paper  for  all 
the  12,000  Indians,  and  did  a  big  business  in  competition 
with  the  local  merchants. 


A    VINDICATION.  39 

Major  Chaffee  called  Chief  Pedro  and  myself  down  to 
explain  to  Pedro  the  change  in  affairs,  and  to  get  Pedro 
to  use  his  influence  to  have  all  the  Indians  do  as  he, 
Pedro,  was  doing,  that  is,  come  in  and  draw  their  rations 
once  a  week  and  be  counted,  and  to  stop,  if  it  could  be 
done,  all  the  raiding,  stealing  and  killing  around  in  the 
country. 

The  council  and  big  talk  lasted  for  several  days  and 
nothing  much  came  of  it.  Pedro  said  he  could  and  did 
control  his  band  of  close  to  600  warriors  and  their 
families,  but  that  there  were  hundreds  of  Indians  no  one 
could  control.  He  advised  Major  Chaffee  to  take  his 
soldiers  and  go  and  kill  off  all  the  bad,  turbulent  Indians, 
and  he  offered  Major  Chaffee  200  good  warriors  to  help 
him  do  it.  Major  Chaffee  then  asked  Pedro  how  it  would 
do  to  send  me  out  to  talk  to  the  bad  Indians  and  to  live 
with  them;  maybe  they  could  be  controlled  in  that  way. 

Pedro  was  a  grand  and  very  impressive  orator  for  an 
Indian,  and  he  always  stood  up  while  talking,  and  when 
Major  Chaffee  proposed  to  send  me  to  the  Cibicu  country, 
where  the  bad  Indians  lived  (and  of  which  I  will  write 
later)  to  try  to  pacify  them,  the  old  Chief  said,  "No,  he 
must  not  and  shall  not  go  unless  you  allow  me  to  send 
at  least  100  warriors  with  him.  Soldier  Captain,  you 
know  soldiers.  I  am  an  Indian  Chief,  as  was  my  father 
and  my  father's  father,  and  I  have  more  influence  with 
the  Indians  than  any  man  on  earth,  and  I  know  the 
Apaches  as  you  know  your  soldiers.  But  the  day  you 
send  this  boy  to  the  Cibicu  country  alone,  will  be  the  day 
he  dies,  for  to  you,  I,  Chief  Pedro,  do  say  no  white  man 
can  go  among  them  and  return.  They  will  burn  him 
at  the  stake  and  send  an  old  Indian  woman  in  and  tell 


10  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

you  to  keep  your  flour  and  sugar  and  send  on  some  more 
warriors  for  them  to  burn." 

Of  course,  when  Major  Chaffee  saw  the  old  Chief  talk 
so  long  and  earnestly  and  passionately,  and  after  I  had 
told  him  what  the  old  Chief  said,  then,  and  for  the  first 
time,  did  Major  Chaffee  understand  what  kind  of  people 
he  had  to  deal  with,  and  I  was  not  sent  to  the  Cibicu 
country. 

Pedro  told  Major  Chaffee  that  the  Aqua  Caliente  and 
Chiricahuas  were  even  worse  than  the  Cibicus,  as  they 
lived  in  Mexico  and  raided  up  into  Arizona  and  then  went 
back  across  the  Mexico  line,  and  the  American  troops 
could  not  follow  them;  that  so  long  as  there  was  Aqua 
Caliente  and  Chiricahua  Indians,  just  so  long  would 
there  be  Indian  wars.  The  old  man  knew  what  he  was 
talking  about,  for  the  war  with  those  Indians  continued 
for  exactly  ten  years  longer. 

There  were  many  different  branches  of  the  Apache 
tribe,  named  as  follows:  Tonto  Apaches,  San  Carlos 
Apaches,  White  Mountain  Apaches,  Cibicus,  Aqua  Cal 
iente  (or  warm  spring),  and  last  and  worst  of  all,  the 
Chiricahuas.  These  Indians  all  spoke  "the  same  language, 
but  were  divided  acording  to  their  dispositions.  Thus 
a  bad  Tonto  would  leave  the  Tontos  and  go  to  the  Cibicus 
or  to  the  Chiricahuas,  and  a  timid  Chiricahua  would  go 
to  the  Tontos,  so  at  the  time  of  which  I  am  writing  you 
could  find  a  good  Indian  or  a  bad  one  by  knowing  to 
what  tribe  he  belonged.  They  all  wore  their  hair  differ 
ent,  and  to  one  accustomed  to  them,  they  could  be  told 
apart  as  far  as  you  could  see  them. 

Well,  at  the  end  of  this  talk  which  lasted  several 
days,  we  all  went  back  to  the  WThite  Mountains  and  I 


HORN'S  FATHER 


A    VINDICATION.  41 

stayed  there  till  the  middle  of  May  and  was  then  sent 
for  to  go  to  San  Carlos  and  there  I  was  told  by  the 
Quartermaster  that  there  was  no  more  money  in  the  De 
partment  to  pay  me  so  I  would  have  to  be  discharged 
until  another  appropriation  was  made.  All  the  rest  of 
the  scouts  and  packers  were  in  the  same  fix. 

We  were  consequently  discharged,  and  Major  Chaffee 
told  us  that  he  had  understood  there  had  been  a  good 
many  irregularities  around  the  Agency  and  that  one  of 
the  strictest  requirements  of  the  Interior  Department 
was  that  no  white  man  not  in  the  employ  of  the  Govern 
ment  would  be  allowed  to  live  on  the  Reservation,  and 
we  were  given  to  understand  that  we  must  "git  up  and 
git  out." 

I  went  back  to  the  Indian  camp  and  told  the  old  Chief 
all  about  the  whole  business,  and  that  I  must  go.  We 
had  a  big  feast  and  dance  that  night  and  my  friends  each 
gave  me  a  present  of  some  kind,  consisting  principally 
of  hair  ropes,  raw-ride  ropes,  hackamores,  moccasins, 
buckskin  bags  and  all  kinds  of  stuff  such  as  Indians  make. 
The  Apache  women  and  some  of  the  bucks  were  very 
skilful  in  making  raw-hide  and  hair  work  of  all  kinds, 
and  I  had,  during  my  residence  with  them,  picked  up  a 
good  deal  of  the  work,  but  it  is  something  that  takes 
years  of  practice  to  become  perfect  in.  Before  I  left  the 
Apache  and  Mexican  country  I,  myself,  had  become  an 
expert  in  all  work  of  that  kind,  as  I  learned  all  that  the 
Indians  and  Mexicans  both  knew.  And  many  an  hour 
and  day  and  week  have  I  passed  here  in  jail  making  raw 
hide  ropes,  hair  ropes,  hackamores,  bridles  and  quirts. 


42  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  : 

Well,  the  work  was  over  for  most  of  us  and  we  had 
to  drift;  and  as  Tucson  was  the  Mecca  of  every  border- 
man  in  that  country,  to  Tucson  we  went. 

I  had  seven  or  eight  good  horses  and  a  fine  outfit,  as 
did  others  of  the  scouts.  Sieber  was  our  leader,  of  course, 
then  there  were  Archie  Mclntosh,  Sam  Bowman,  Frank 
Monic,  Charley  Mitchell,  Long  Jim  Cook,  (six  feet  eight 
inches  in  height),  Frank  Leslie,  Frank  Bennett,  Sage. 
Merijilda  Grijola,  Jose  Maria  Yescus,  and  Big  Ed  Clark, 
scout.  All  of  these  were  scouts  or  interpreters,  and  then 
there  were  a  good  many  packers.  I  think  there  were 
twenty-one  of  us  in  the  bunch. 

We  stayed  around  Tucson  for  a  while  that  summer 
till  Ed  Scheflin  came  in  from  California  and  was  getting 
an  outfit  at  Tucson  to  go  to  where  he  had  found  some 
rich  mineral  a  few  years  before  that  time.  Scheflin  and 
Sieber  were  well  acquainted,  and  they  had  a  talk.  So  we 
all  concluded  we  would  go  to  this  place  as  we  had  nothing 
else  to  do.  Most  all  of  the  packers  had  gone  to  work 
''skinning"  mules  for  some  of  the  freighters,  so  that  when 
we  did  finally  pull  out  with  Scheflin  there  were  only 
about  five  or  six  of  our  original  crowd.  Scheflin  de 
scribed  the  country  to  Sieber,  and  Sieber  told  me  it  was 
the  "Cochise"  country,  as  Sieber  and  I  called  it,  for  Co- 
chise,  a  Chiricahua  Chief  of  great  fame,  had  been  born 
there,  and  two  of  his  grandsons,  Chihuahua  and  Natchez 
still  lived  there  a  good  deal  of  the  time.  Scheflin's  party 
were  all  well  armed,  but  they  were  like  all  pioneer 
miners,  seemed  to  care  not  in  the  least  when  Sieber  told 
them,  when  we  were  ready  to  start,  that  we  were  going 
into  the  very  heart  of  the  country  where  the  worst  In 
dians  in  the  world  lived;  that  we  would  have  to  fight 


A    VINDICATION.  43 

and  fight  hard  if  the  Indians  happened  to  be  in  there, 
and  that  there  never  was  a  time  when  there  were  not 
Indians  there;  that  we  would  not  be  there  long  till  every 
hostile  Indian  in  the  South  would  know  of  it. 

"Scheflin  assures  us  that  there  is  mineral  there,  and 
lots  of  it,"  said  one  big  prospector,  "and  if  there  are  any 
bad  Indians  there  they  will  have  to  look  out  for  them 
selves."  Sieber  said,  "Come  on  boys!"  and  we  pulled  out. 

There  were  about  sixty  men  in  the  party,  and  as  I 
was  talking  to  Sieber  that  night  at  Pantano,  he  told  me 
about  those  prospectors  of  whom  I  knew  very  little. 
Scheflin  had  found  silver  there,  and  was  run  out  by  the 
Indians  and  one  of  his  partners  had  been  killed  and  he 
had  gone  to  California  and  got  these  men,  and  every  one 
of  them  was  a  frontiersman,  a  miner,  and  a  warrior,  and 
no  Indians  could  keep  them  out  of  that  country  now  that 
they  were  sure  there  was  mineral  there,  for  nothing  has 
ever  yet  stopped  people  of  that  kind.  If  they  found  the 
mineral  there  as  Scheflin  assured  them,  it  would  be  as 
that  big  fellow  had  said  in  Tucson, — The  Indians  would 
have  to  look  out  for  themselves. 

Six  days  after  we  left  Tucson  we  camped  on  the 
ground  where  Tombstone  now  stands,  and  after  we  made 
camp,  Ed  Scheflin  said,  "Boys,  we  have  arrived;  for  right 
here  is  where  I  was  camped  when  Lenox  was  killed,  and 
now  come  on  and  I  will  show  you  where  I  was  digging." 

We  all  followed  him  up  in  the  hills  about  a  mile,  and 
sure  enough  there  was  a  hole  twenty-three  feet  deep, 
just  as  Scheflin  had  said  there  would  be.  The  entire  ex 
posure  was  all  ore  and  good  ore  at  that,  and  those  miners 
went  as  crazy  as  bats  over  it.  Scheflin  had  this  claim 
all  staked  out  and  all  the  men  had  made  some  kind  of  a 


44  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  : 

contract  with  Scheflin  before  he  brought  them  there. 
Scheflin  told  all  of  them  to  go  back  to  camp  and  that  he 
would  hold  a  council  that  night. 

That  night  all  these  prospectors  got  together  and 
Scheflin  made  them  a  talk,  and  reminded  them  of  some 
agreement  entered  into  before  they  left  California  and 
Nevada,  which,  as  I  afterwards  understood,  was  for 
Scheflin  to  get  a  quarter  interest  in  all  claims  staked 
by  the  party;  but  Scheflin  did  not  say  in  this  talk  what 
their  agreement  was.  He  told  them  there  were  millions 
of  dollars  there  to  be  had  for  the  digging,  and  he  made 
a  motion  to  call  the  camp  Tombstone,  as  the  initial  mon 
ument  of  his  claim  was  right  at  the  grave  of  Lenox,  who 
had  been  killed  by  the  Indians  on  the  first  trip  to  that 
country. 

"Tombstone  shall  be  the  name  of  the  new  camp,"  said 
every  one,  and  then  the  meeting  broke  up. 

Next  morning  by  daylight  every  man  was  ready  to 
go  to  look  for  mines.  Sieber  and  I  went  way  up  toward 
the  divide  and  staked  out  a  claim  that  day.  And  I  will 
say  here,  that  though  the  claim  was  not  worth  a  dollar, 
we  sold  out  that  fall  for  $2,800.00. 

Scheflin's  claim,  that  he  had  previously  worked, 
turned  out  to  be  a  bonanza,  and  was  known  as  the 
"Grand  Central."  Scheflin  left  the  camp  in  three  years, 
a  very  rich  man.  Many  others  of  the  party  also  made 
fortunes  there,  as  Tombstone  turned  out  to  be  one  of 
the  big  silver  camps  of  the  Southwest. 

I  made  plenty  of  money  by  hunting,  as  I  could  get 
$2.50  apiece  for  deer,  and  I  kept  the  camp  pretty  well 
supplied.  The  news  went  broadcast  that  a  new  mining 


A    VINDICATION.  45 

canip  was  struck,  and  by  October  there  were  1,500  men 
there  and  plenty  of  stores  and  saloons. 

Such  was  the  starting  of  Tombstone,  that  in  one  year 
had  a  population  of  7,000  souls. 

In  October  of  that  year  a  detachment  of  soldiers, 
with  Micky  Free  as  guide,  came  to  the  new  camp,  or 
Tombstone,  as  we  will  now  call  it,  and  made  inquiry  for 
Sieber  and  myself.  Sieber  and  I  were  up  in  the  middle 
pass  after  deer  when  the  soldiers  came  in.  Lieutenant 
Von  Shroder  was  with  them,  and  had  a  letter  from  Gen 
eral  Wilcox,  Department  Commander,  wanting  Sieber 
and  me  to  go  to  Fort  Whipple  at  once,  and  to  consider 
ourselves  under  pay  and  orders  from  the  time  we  received 
the  communication. 

When  we  got  back  to  Tombstone,  Von  Shroder  was 
waiting  for  us.  So,  as  we  both  had  enough  of  mines  and 
mining,  we  hunted  up  a  man  named  Charley  Leach,  and 
he  gave  us  $2,800.00  for  our  claim,  and  on  the  16th  of 
October  we  pulled  out  for  Fort  Whipple. 

General  Wilcox  told  us,  when  we  got  to  Whipple, 
that  everything  was  in  bad  shape,  and  that  the  Indians 
were  "raising  Cain/'  and  he  wanted  Sieber  to  take  up  his 
work  where  he  had  left  off  early  in  the  summer,  and  see 
if  something  could  not  be  done  to  quiet  the  Indians. 
Some  of  the  Indians  were  making  whiskey;  all  of  them 
were  drinking  it,  and  they  were  robbing  and  raiding  and 
killing,  and  the  soldiers  could  never  come  up  with  them. 

The  Sixth  Cavalry  had  come  into  Arizona  the  year 
before  and  relieved  the  Fifth  Cavalry.  The  Sixth  had 
never  been  in  the  mountains,  and  while  General  Wilcox 
said  the  Sixth  was  one  of  the  best  regiments  in  the  army, 
they  could  never  get  at  the  Indians. 


40  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN! 

Under  Sieber's  directions,  a  scouting  force  was  again 
organized,  Sieber  as  Chief  of  Scouts  and  I  as  interpreter. 
I  was  now  to  get  f  100.00  per  month;  but  it  did  not  take 
an  old  hand  to  see  that  we  were  going  to  have  trouble, 
and  a  lot  of  it. 

San  Carlos,  of  course,  was  to  be  our  headquarters, 
and  it  was  very  little  of  the  time  that  we  were  to  put  in 
there.  Sieber  himself  was  a  tireless  worker,  and  any 
one  to  hold  a  job  under  him,  when  there  was  work  to 
do,  had  to  go  day  and  night;  for  in  a  case  of  emergency 
Sieber  would  entirely  forget  to  sleep,  and  he  could  live 
on  what  a  hungry  wolf  would  leave. 

I  was  sent  to  old  Pedro's  camp  to  get  some  Indians 
Sieber  wanted  as  scouts  and  police,  and  as  it  took  a  week 
to  get  the  ones  I  was  sent  after,  I  had  a  good  visit  with 
my  old  friends.  Many  of  the  young  bucks  of  about 
twenty  years  of  age  wanted  to  go  and  fight  their  own 
people,  but  Sieber  and  Pedro  were  of  one  mind  about 
them,  for  it  was  the  work  of  able  and  experienced  war 
riors  to  get  the  Indians  back  where  they  were  eight 
months  before.  The  tamest  and  best  of  the  Indians 
needed  a  strong  hand  to  control  them,  like  Pedro,  for 
instance,  and  the  wild  and  bad  ones  were  as  Pedro 
had  previously  said  to  Major  Chaffee — uncontrollable. 

"You  will  have  years  of  hard  work,  and  many  and 
many  of  them  will  have  to  be  killed,"  said  the  old  coun 
selor,  proud  that  he  did,  indeed,  know  the  Apaches. 

Nana  at  this  time  (Spring  of  '78)  sent  in  word  by  an 
old  squaw  that  he  and  Geronimo,  who  were  living  in 
Mexico,  wanted  to  come  and  live  on  the  Reservation, 
and  that  he  wanted  to  see  Sieber  and  have  a  talk  with 
him.  He  sent  word  that  he  did  not  know  any  of  the 


A   VINDICATION.  47 

officers  in  the  Department,  and  he  said  they  didn't  know 
anything  about  what  an  Indian  wanted,  anyhow,  and 
for  Sieber  to  come  to  the  Terras  Mountains  and  make  cer 
tain  signs,  and  some  of  Geronimo's  men  would  come  to 
him.  We  were  to  be  at  a  certain  place  at  the  full  of 
the  May  moon.  That  was  just  what  Sieber  wanted;  so 
he  sent  the  old  squaw  back  to  tell  these  two  chiefs  that 
Sieber,  Merijilda  and  I  would  be  there.  (Merijilda  Gri- 
jola  was  a  Mexican  captive  raised  by  the  Nana  and  Ge- 
roniino  bands  of  Chiricahuas.) 

We  started  from  San  Carlos  so  as  to  reach  the  desig 
nated  place  by  the  full  of  the  moon.  We  followed  the 
San  Bernardino  Creek  from  its  head  down  to  where  it 
runs  into  the  Bavispe  Eiver,  in  Mexico.  Just  as  we 
were  crossing  the  Bavispe  Kiver  we  saw  an  Indian  com 
ing  down  a  ridge  on  foot  from  towards  the  Terras  Moun 
tains.  While  our  horses  and  mules  were  drinking  in 
the  river,  the  Indian  came  and  stood  on  the  bank  and 
leaned  on  his  gun  and  looked  at  us,  but  did  not  speak 
a  word  till  our  animals  were  through  drinking,  and  we 
rode  out  on  the  side  he  was  on.  Sieber  and  Merijilda 
spoke  to  him,  and  I  did  the  same.  He  said  to  me:  "Who 
are  you?  I  know  these  two  men,  but  I  never  saw  you 
before." 

Merijilda  then  told  him  who  I  was,  and  told  me,  also, 
who  the  Indian  was.  In  talking  to  an  Apache  you  may 
never  ask  his  name,  for  no  Apache  buck  ever  pronounces 
his  own  name,  and  when  once  you  know  the  custom  you 
will  never  ask  his  name.  You  may  ask  who  he  is,  and 
he  will  tell  you  what  band  he  belongs  to,  but  his  own 
name  he  never  speaks. 


48  LIFE    OF    TOM    HORN  : 

Well,  this  man  turned  out  to  be  the  one  sent  by  Nana 
and  Geronimo  to  meet  us,  and  his  name  was  Hal-zay. 
He  was  the  first  hostile  Indian  I  had  ever  seen,  and  he 
sure  looked  the  brave  that  he  was.  Tall,  slender  and 
smiling,  he  stood  there  looking  as  unconcerned  as  you 
please.  He  was  dressed  in  a  low-cut  breech  clout  and 
a  handsome  pair  of  moccasins.  For  ornaments  he  wore 
a  belt  full  of  cartridges,  with  a  long  Mexican  knife. 
Sieber  said  he  was  a  half  brother  to  Natchez,  and  that 
he  wras  one  of  the  worst  Indians  there  was  in  the  entire 
tribe.  As  he  appeared  then,  now  smiling  good-naturedly 
and  now  laughing,  he  did  not  seem  to  be  the  bad  man 
Sieber  said  he  was.  I  will  write  later  on  of  his  death 
at  the  hands  of  an  old  man  in  Pedro's  band. 

Hal-zay  said  Nana  and  Geronimo  were  waiting  for 
us  up  on  the  top  of  the  Terras  Mountains,  and  he  told 
Merijilda  to  go  to  a  place  in  the  Terras  Mountains  called 
by  the  Indians  Tu-Slaw.  We  asked  him  if  he  were  not 
going  back  with  us,  and  he  said  no.  We  then  started 
on  to  where  he  had  directed  us  to  go.  Sieber  and  Meri 
jilda  said  that  this  fellow  would  watch  to  see  that  no 
soldiers  were  following  us  to  trap  the  rest  of  1he  hos- 
tiles. 


A    VINDICATION.  41) 


CHAPTER  V. 


Arrival  at  the  Hostile  Camp — The  Council — Geronimo 
in  the  Height  of  His  Power,  the  Biggest  Chief,  the 
Best  Talker,  and  the  Biggest  Liar — Horn  Interprets 
at.  the  Big  Talk— "Not  Scared,  but  a  Little  Shaky"— 
The  Apaches'  Grievances — Sieber's  Reply  to  Geron 
imo. 

It  was  about  10  a.  in.  when  we  saw  the  first 
Indian,  and  it  was  night  when  we  got  up  on  top  of  the 
mountain  to  the  main  Indian  camp.  There  must  have 
been  1,000  or  1.200  Indians  in  camp.  Camp  fires  were 
burning  everywhere.  Just  when  we  got  to  the  edge  of 
the  camp  an  Indian  boy  about  ten  or  twelve  years  old 
spoke  to  us,  and  told  us  to  follow  him  and  he  would  take 
us  to  a  camping  place.  We  followed  him  to  the  place 
he  indicated,  then  made  camp  and  turned  our  animals 
loose,  and  the  boy  said  he  would  take  care  of  them.  We 
got  to  wrork  and  straightened  things  around  a  little,  and 
four  or  five  women  came  with  wood  and  built  a  fire  for 
MS.  bringing  cooked  meat.  We  had  some  bread,  and  as 
wo  were  very  hungry  we  enjoyed  a  good  meal. 

When  we  were  through  eating,  an  Indian  buck  came 
up  and  began  to  talk  to  us,  and  asked  us  did  we  want 
anything  more  to  eat,  and  we  told  him  we  had  had 
enough.  He  said  we  would  be  looked  for  at  the  council 
at  sunup  next  morning,  and  we  told  him  we  would  be 


50  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  : 

there.  The  old  squaw  came  up  then,  the  one  that  had 
come  to  San  Carlos  with  the  message  that  took  us  to 
the  place  we  then  were.  Quite  a  lot  of  squaws  had  gath 
ered  around  by  this  time,  and  were  laughing  and  talk 
ing  to  us  as  if  we  belonged  to  them. 

Merijilda  had  'been  raised  with  these  Indians,  and  he 
asked  Sieber  if  he  might  go  and  visit  around  a  while, 
and  Sieber  said  yes,  that  he  might,  and  that  I  might  go, 
also,  if  I  wanted  to.  Sieber  spoke  to  Merijilda  in  Span 
ish,  and  many  of  the  Indian  women  understood  what  he 
said,  and  we  were  invited  by  the  women  to  go  with 
any  and  all  of  them.  I  went  one  way  and  Merijilda  an 
other,  for  the  camp  was  very  large.  Merijilda  didn't  get 
back  to  camp  that  night,  and  it  was  nearly  morning  when 
I  got  back.  I  did  not  see  half  a  dozen  men  that  night, 
but  there  were  women  and  children  by  the  hundreds. 

The  old  woman  who  had  brought  the  message  to  us 
at  San  Carlos  wanted  me  to  stay  at  her  lodge  all  the 
time  I  was  in  the  Indian  camp,  but  I  excused  myself  by 
saying  I  had  to  stay  where  my  chief  could  find  me  any 
time.  This  old  woman  gave  me  a  good  send-off  among 
the  Indians  by  telling  them  how  well  I  had  treated  her, 
and  had  given  her  all  she  could  eat,  fed  her  mule,  and 
given  her  a  lot  of  flour  and  sugar  and  meat  when  she 
left.  Of  course,  she  did  not  know  that  I  did  this  because 
Sieber  and  Major  Chaffee  ordered  me  to  do  so,  and  I 
would  not  spoil  a  good  thing  by  telling  her! 

At  daylight  the  women  were  at  camp  to  give  us  some 
more  meat,  I  made  some  coffee  and  we  had  breakfast. 
Just  as  it  was  ready,  Merijilda  came  in,  and  after  we 
got  through,  he  led  the  way  to  the  council.  The  sun  was 
just  coming  up.  Now  all  the  women  and  kids  were  out 


A   VINDICATION.  51 

of  sight,  and  only  warriors  were  around  the  place  se 
lected  for  the  council.  Then  Geronimo  got  up  out  of  a 
crowd  of  Indians  and  came  over  and  shook  hands  with 
Sieber,  and  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  saw  this  man 
of  whom  I  had  heard  so  much  from  both  Indians  and 
white  men. 

Certainly  a  grand  looking  war  chief  he  was  that 
morning  as  he  stood  there  talking  to  Sieber;  six  feet  high 
and  magnificently  proportioned,  and  his  motions  as  easy 
and  graceful  as  a  panther's.  He  had  an  intelligent  look 
ing  face,  but  when  he  turned  and  looked  at  a  person,  his 
eyes  were  so  sharp  and  piercing  that  they  seemed  fairly 
to  stick  into  him.  Anyhow,  that  was  how  they  looked 
to  me;  but  I  was  a  little  shaky,  anyhow. 

"How  are  you,  young  man?"  said  he  to  me  in  Apache. 

I  told  him  I  was  all  right.  I  might  as  well  have  told 
him  I  was  a  little  shaky,  for  he  knew  it  anyhow.  He 
asked  us  to  come  over  into  the  center  of  the  circle,  where 
we  had  the  talk,  and  then  he  said  to  Sieber:  "Who  will 
interpret  for  you?"  Sieber  told  him  I  would  do  it. 

While  Sieber  could  talk  Apache  very  well  and  under 
stand  it  very  well,  still  he  could  not  talk  anyways  near 
well  enough  to  take  in  all  that  a  man  like  Geronimo 
said.  Geronimo  then  said  to  me:  "I  speak  very  fast, 
sometimes.  Can  you  undertake  to  interpret  as  fast  as 
I  talk?" 

I  told  him  he  had  but  one  mouth  and  tongue,  that  I 
could  see,  and  for  him  to  let  loose.  "Well  spoken !"  said 
he;  and  then  he  asked  Sieber  what  he  had  come  down 
there  for,  and  Sieber  said  to  hear  what  he  (Geronimo)  had 
to  say.  "I  want  to  hear  you  talk,"  said  Sieber. 


52  LIFK    OF    TOM    HOttX  ! 

Well,  the  big  talk  was  ou;  and  how  that  old  renegade 
did  talk!  Of  the  wrongs  done  him  by  the  agent,  and  by 
the  soldiers,  and  by  the  White  Mountain  Apaches,  and 
by  the  Mexicans  and  settlers,  and  he  had  more  griev 
ances  than  a  railroad  switchman,  and  he  wanted  to  go 
back  to  live  on  the  Reservation.  He  wanted  to  be  al 
lowed  to  have  a  couple  of  Mexicans  to  make  muscal  for 
him,  and  he  wanted  the  Government  to  give  him  new 
guns  and  all  the  ammunition  he  could  use.  He  wanted 
calico  for  the  women,  and  shoes  for  the  children  when 
there  was  snow  on  the  ground,  and  any  and  everything 
he  ever  saw  or  heard  of  he  wanted.  Geronimo  was  the 
biggest  chief,  the  best  talker  and  the  biggest  liar  in  the 
world,  I  guess,  and  no  one  knew  this  better  than  Sieber. 

Geronimo  must  have  talked  an  hour  or  two,  and  Sie 
ber  never  said  a  word  in  reply.  At  last  Geronimo 
stopped  talking,  for  he  had  asked  for  everything  he  could 
think  of,  and  he  was  a  natural  born  genius  at  thinking 
of  things. 

Sieber  sat  perfectly  still  for  some  time,  and  then  arose 
and  looked  around  him,  and  it  was  sure  a  beautiful  spot 
we  were  camped,  and  Sieber  looked  around  as  though  he 
was  admiring  the  view  and  the  camp. 

"Torn,  tell  Geronimo  just  what  I  say,  no  more  and 
no  less,"  said  he.  "You  have  asked  for  everything  that 
I  know  anything  about,"  continued  Sieber,  "except  to 
have  these  mountains  moved  up  into  the  American 
country  for  you  to  live  in,  and  I  will  give  you  till  sun 
down  to  talk  to  your  people  and  see  if  you  don't  want 
these  mountains  moved  up  there  to  live  in.  If  you  are 
entitled,  by  your  former  conduct,  to  what  you  have  asked 


A    VINDICATION.  53 

for,  then  you  should  have  these  mountains  too."  That 
was  all.  Sieber  turned  and  walked  out  of  the  council. 

Not  an  Indian  stirred  nor  spoke  for  a  long  time,  and 
then  Geronimo  arose  and  said:  "Anybody's  business 
that  is  in  that  man's  hands  will  be  handled  as  he  says, 
or  it  won't  be  handled  at  all.  We  will  meet  here  again 
at  sundown." 

Everybody  then  went  his  own  way.  I  went  back  to 
our  camp  and  Sieber  was  lying  down  on  his  back  on  his 
blankets  looking  up  at  the  sky,  and  he  did  not  move  for 
a  long  time.  At  last  he  got  up  and  said  to  me:  "Tom, 
did  you  ever  know  of  another  such  man  as  Geronimo?" 
Of  course  I  never  did,  and  I  told  him  so. 

"Well,  go  on  away  now,  for  I  want  to  think  to-day  of 
all  the  mean  things  I  can  say  to  that  old  wolf  to-night. 
Come  about  noon  and  make  me  some  coffee,  and  tell 
those  women  that  feed  us  to  bring  me  some  meat  then, 
and  tell  them  to  keep  away  from  me  to-day." 

I  went  away  and  visited  and  got  acquainted  during 
the  day,  and  was  welcomed  in  every  camp.  Sieber  had 
bought  some  calico  and  a  few  presents  for  the  women 
that  he  knew  from  former  experience  would  have  to 
wait  on  us,  and  he  told  me  to  give  them  to  the  women 
who  seemed  to  have  the  business  in  charge.  I  did  so, 
and  they  were  received  by  the  women  with  great  appar 
ent  joy.  And  then  I  learned  that  it  was  considered 
quite  a  privilege  to  be  allowed  to  cook  for  us,  as  those 
who  did  so  were  sure  to  get  nice  presents  in  the  shape 
of  calico,  beads,  needles,  thread  and  pearl  buttons. 

Wrhen  sundown  came,  Sieber  and  I  again  went  to  the 
place  where  the  council  was  held,  and  saw  a  good  big 
fire  had  been  built,  and  there  was  a  lot  of  dry  wood  piled 


54  LIFE  OF  TOM    HORN  : 

up,  and  two  women  were  there  to  keep  the  fire  in  proper 
shape.  I  guess  there  must  have  been  three  or  four  hun 
dred  warriors  there,  and  most  of  them  had  on  a  blanket 
of  some  kind  or  other. 

Sieber  stood  and  looked  all  over  the  crowd,  and  then 
said  to  Geronimo: 

"This  morning  you  asked  for  many  things,  and  you 
knew  I  could  not  give  you  many  of  the  things  you  asked 
for,  and  I  do  think  that  you  asked  for  the  most  of  them 
because  you  love  to  talk,  and  not  because  I  could  or 
would  do  as  you  asked  me.  Anything  I  do  promise,  you 
know  full  well  you  will  get;  for  you  have  ever  found  me 
as  I  said  1  would  be.  I  am  not  the  fluent  orator  that 
you  are,  neither  do  I  put  in  my  time  asking  for  or  trying 
to  get  that  which  I  know  I  can  never  obtain. 

"Now,  this  I  do  say  to  you:  Go  to  the  Keservation, 
and  do  as  you  will  be  advised  to  do  by  the  Government, 
and  you  will  get  all  that  the  Government  can  give  you. 
You  know  what  the  Government  can  give  you,  for  you 
have  lived  there  and  drawn  your  rations,  as  many  In 
dians  are  doing  now.  You  will  also  be  given  a  blanket 
for  each  of  you,  and  other  things  just  as  you  have  before 
received;  but  I  can  promise  you  no  more,  for  it  is  spoken 
by  my  Government  that  you  shall  get  no  more. 

"Geronimo,  I  have  no  idea  you  will  do  as  I  say,  for 
you  do  not  love  peace.  You  are  a  man  of  war  and  battle, 
else  you  would  not  be  war  chief  of  the  Chiricahua  tribe. 
You  could  go  to  the  Reservation  and  stay  maybe  one 
season,  and  maybe  only  one  moon.  But  within  this  camp 
may  be  some  who  do  really  want  to  come  up  and  settle 
down  to  a  peaceful  life.  Any  and  all  such  I  will  take 
back  safely,  and  most  of  your  people  know  what  you  will 


A    VINDICATION.  55 

get.  Twice  already  have  I  taken  you  there,  and  twice 
have  you  become  uneasy  and  left.  Never  did  a  com 
plaint  come  to  the  Government  that  you  were  not  fed. 
Never  did  you  complain  of  not  having  clothing  and 
blankets  enough.  But  there  would  be  a  row  between 
this  tribe  and  some  of  the  other  tribes,  or  some  one  would 
sell  you  a  lot  of  whiskey  and  you  would  all,  or  a  great 
many  of  you,  get  drunk  and  away  you  would  go;  and  un 
til  now  you  have  not  complained  of  not  getting  what  the 
Government  promised  you. 

"This  thing  can  not  last.  The  white  men  are  as  the 
leaves  upon  the  trees.  There  are  hundreds  and  hundreds 
of  white  men  to  every  Apache.  It  is  true  many  and 
many  of  the  white  men  can  not  protect  themselves  from 
such  warriors  as  there  are  here,  for  it  is  my  opinion  in 
the  world  there  are  none  better.  Still,  all  the  Chiricahua 
and  Aqua  Caliente  in  existence,  or  nearly  all,  are  within 
hearing  of  the  words  I  am  saying  now,  and  they  can  not 
stay  on  the  wrar  path  and  not  be  exterminated.  Slowly, 
of  course;  but  one  by  one  you  will  be  killed  or  captured, 
and  how  will  you  ever  replace  them? 

"True,  you  can  say  the  Americans  can  not  and  will 
not  be  allowed  to  come  armed  and  in  force  into  this,  a 
Mexican  country,  to  fight  you. 

"Such  have  been  the  conditions  so  far,  and  I  know 
that  you  have  no  fear  of  the  Mexican  soldiers,  and  many 
a  time  have  I  heard  your  women  say  they  could  whip 
the  Mexican  army,  and  that  the  Mexicans  were  poorer 
than  the  Apaches.  And  to  that  I  will  say  that  within 
a  short  time,  a  year  or  two,  or  maybe  three,  that  a  peace 
talk  will  be  held  by  the  Mexican  and  American  Govern 
ments,  and  arrangements  will  be  made  to  allow  Amer- 


5G  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  : 

lean  soldiers  and  scouts  to  enter  these  mountains  in 
force  and  in  pursuit  of  you,  and  then  you  will  be  doomed 
to  capture,  or  will  be  all  exterminated;  for,  as  I  said  be 
fore,  the  American  troops  are  without  number.  I  have 
ever  spoken  words  of  advice  to  you  in  council.  Never 
have  I  told  you  one  lie,  and  not  a  warrior  here  now  will 
say  he  thinks  I  talk  two  ways. 

"Consider  well  what  I  have  said  to  you.  I  leave  in 
four  days  for  San  Carlos."  Sieber  then  turned  and  went 
back  to  our  camp. 

His  talk  had,  as  I  could  see,  made  a  deep  impression 
on  the  Indians.  Merijilda  was  left  there  with  me. 
Presently  Geronimo  spoke  to  one  of  the  sub-chiefs,  and 
he  came  over  to  where  we  were  standing,  and  said  that 
the  Apaches  would  be  alone;  or,  in  other  words,  for  us 
to  leave  the  council.  We  left,  of  course,  and  went  back 
to  camp.  All  night  long  did  the  council  fire  burn,  and 
at  daylight,  when  I  got  up  and  looked  around,  I  could 
see  bucks  returning  to  their  camps.  They  had  talked 
among  themselves  all  night! 


A    VINDICATION.  •>  < 


CHAPTER  VI. 


Goodbye  to  Geronimo — "Happy  to  Meet  You  in  Battle 
as  Well  as  in  Council!" — Escorting  Indians  Back  to 
Reservation  Under  Difficulties — Evading  the  Cus 
toms — Horn  Again  Out  of  Employment — Hires  to  a 
Beef  Contractor — Indian  Troubles  Brewing — Major 
Chaffee  Superseded  by  Civilian  Tiffany — "Something 
Rotten  in  Denmark." 


During  the  rest  of  our  stay  a  good  many  Indians  came 
and  told  us  they  were  going  back  with  us. 

There  was  a  camp  or  troop  of  soldiers  at  old  Fort 
Tony  Rucky,  and  as  that  was  not  far  from  where  we 
would  cross  the  Mexican  line  going  back,  we  knew  we 
could  get  rations  there  for  the  Indians  that  returned  to 
the  Reservation  with  us. 

I  traded  two  fine  Mexican  blankets  for  two  good 
horses  and  two  mules.  They  were  all  splendid  animals. 
The  blankets  cost  me  f  12.00  in  Tucson;  so  I  made  a  good 
trade.  The  Indian  I  traded  with  did  well,  also,  for  he 
of  course  stole  the  stock  from  the  Mexicans! 

There  was  no  more  council,  for  Sieber  had  said  his  say. 
When  we  were  ready  to  start  to  San  Carlos,  at  the  time 
set  by  Sieber,  sixty-two  Indians  were  ready  to  go  with 
us,  among  them  being  the  chiefs  Nana  and  old  Loco,  a 
once  famous  chief,  but  at  this  time  he  must  have  been 
eighty  years  old,  or  maybe  more. 


58  LIFE  OF  TOM   HORN: 

Geronimo  came  to  us  when  all  was  ready  to  start, 
and  said  he  was  glad  that  these  Indians  were  going 
back,  as  they  were  mostly  widows  (whose  men  had  been 
killed)  and  children,  and  a  few  very  old  bucks.  Geron 
imo  told  me  to  come  to  his  camp  at  any  time  that  I  had 
any  word  to  bring  him  from  the  Government  officials, 
and  not  to  be  afraid,  as  I  would  always  be  well  treated 
and  perfectly  safe.  "You  are  a  young  man,"  he  said, 
"and  will  always  be  at  war  with  me  and  mine;  but  war 
is  one  thing,  and  talking  business  is  another;  and  I  will 
be  just  as  pleased  to  meet  you  in  battle  as  in  council." 

We  then  pulled  out  for  San  Carlos  Agency. 

At  night,  after  we  had  camped  on  the  Bavispe  River, 
Merijilda  left  us  to  go  on  ahead  with  dispatches  to  Gen 
eral  Wilcox  and  Major  Chaffee.  We  had  to  have  troops 
to  escort  us  as  soon  as  we  crossed  the  Mexican  line  into 
the  United  States.  When  we  got  up  close  to  the  line 
we  swung  off  toward  the  Bonito  Canon  to  wrait  for  this 
escort,  which  arrived  in  a  few  days,  and  we  then  pro 
ceeded  toward  San  Carlos. 

We  finally  got  to  the  Agency  all  right  with  our  In 
dians  and  made  them  camp  in  the  forks  of  the  San  Carlos 
and  Gila  Elvers. 

We  had  not  been  back  a  great  while  till  another 
squaw  came  in  and  told  us  more  of  the  same  Indians 
we  had  the  talk  with  in  Mexico  were  ready  to  come  to 
the  Reservation.  Sieber  was  then  laid  up  with  the 
rheumatism,  so  I  was  ordered  to  go  with  some  troops 
and  escort  them  in.  I  then  saw  what  their  game  was — 
that  is,  to  raid  and  kill  in  Mexico  and  bring  the  stock 
to  San  Carlos. 


A    VINDICATION.  59 

There  were  about  fifty,  or,  to  be  accurate,  forty-nine 
in  this  second  bunch,  and  they  had  about  500  head  of 
horses  and  mules.  Trouble  was  sure  just  beginning  for 
us!  There  was  a  duty  on  horses  and  mules  coming  from 
Mexico  into  the  United  States,  and  at  San  Bernardino, 
on  the  line,  was  a  bunch  of  custom  house  men  from  El 
Paso,  Texas,  to  collect  duty  on  this  stock.  Not  a  soul 
of  us  knew  what  to  do.  We  could  not  pay  this  duty, 
and  these  officers  would  not  let  us  bring  in  this  stock 
without  it,  and  the  Indians  told  us  that  the  Mexican 
troops  were  following  them  and  would  perhaps  overtake 
them  in  a  day  or  two. 

The  renegades,  of  course,  could  not  and  would  not 
understand  the  condition  of  affairs.  There  were  about 
fifty  warriors  with  this  last  bunch  of  Indians,  but  they 
had  not  shown  up  to  us.  They  wrere  in  the  rear  to  head 
off  the  Mexicans. 

Luckily,  the  Mexicans  turned  back  after  getting 
within  about  twenty  miles  of  the  line.  The  custom  house 
men  counted  the  horses  and  mules  and  finally  let  us  go 
on;  the  officer  in  charge  of  our  escort  promising  to  do 
what  was  required  by  the  custom  department  later  on. 

All  that  year  I  was  going  back  and  forth  between  the 
Mexican  line  and  San  Carlos  bringing  in  bunches  of  In 
dians  and  big  bunches  of  stock. 

The  Mexican  Government  was  just  "raising  Cain" 
because  we  were  doing  as  w*e  did.  There  was  no  mistake 
but  that  it  was  wrong,  and  very  wrong;  but  we  were 
powerless,  and  it  did  look  to  the  Mexicans  as  though 
our  troops  were  upholding  the  Apaches  and  protecting 
them  in  their  raiding. 


60  LIFE   OF    TOM    HORN  : 

We  had  about  2,000  head  of  horses  and  mules  taken 
from  the  Mexicans  and  several  delegations  of  Mexican 
rancheros  came  to  San  Carlos  and  proved  their  property, 
but  they  all  went  back  empty  handed.  The  Indians 
would  not  give  up  the  stock  voluntarily,  and  our  agent 
would  not  take  them  by  force;  so  Mr.  Mexican  had  to  go 
back  as  poor  as  he  came.  Mad?  Well,  you  should  have 
seen  them! 

There  was  a  Mexican  newspaper  at  Tucson  called 
"El  Fronterizo,"  and  it  did  sure  write  some  warm  articles 
on  the  subject.  Don  Carlos  Valasquez,  the  editor  of  this 
paper,  came  to  San  Carlos  personally  to  see  what  could 
be  done.  But  nothing  was  ever  done.  The  Indians  made 
their  play  stick,  and  we  had  to  protect  them  in  it. 

Along  in  the  spring  of  '79  a  good  many  warriors  came 
in  and  all  of  them  made  a  big  talk  and  said  they  were 
going  to  remain  on  the  Reservation  and  draw  their 
rations,  and  be  good  and  go  out  on  the  war  path  no  more. 
There  were  still  a  lot  of  renegades  in  Mexico  under  Ge- 
ronimo  and  Ju  (called  "Who"),  but  they  were  hopeless  as 
far  as  getting  them  to  come  in  was  concerned. 

In  June  of  '79,  we  scouts  and  interpreters  were  again 
all  discharged  and  fired  off  the  .Reservation.  Appro 
priation  had  run  out  and  the  Quartermaster  had  no 
money  to  pay  us.  Of  course  we  all  went  to  Tucson. 

Tuly  Ochoa  &  Co.  had  the  contract  to  furnish  the 
beef  to  the  Indians  at  San  Carlos  from  July,  '79  for  one 
year,  and  they  employed  me  to  handle  the  San  Carlos  end 
of  it,  and  gave  me  $150.00  a  month.  It  took,  on  an  aver 
age,  of  225  beeves  a  week,  all  issued  on  foot. 

Loco  was  still  camped  in  the  San  Carlos  and  his  band 
by  this  time  numbered  about  650  Indians.  They  must 


HORN'S   MOTHER 


A    VINDICATION.  61 

have  had  close  to  5,000  head  of  horses  and  mules.  The 
grass  was  fine,  and  their  horses  were  all  fat,  and  the 
bucks  were  running  the  whole  country.  In  August,  '79. 
I  turned  loose  2,000  head  of  steers  about  six  miles  above 
the  Agency  and  the  Chiricahua  bucks  did  have  a  good 
time  with  them.  Every  day,  when  they  wanted  meat, 
they  would  just  round  up  and  kill  what  they  wanted. 
Of  course,  I  complained  to  the  agent,  and  the  best  he 
could  do  was  to  have  me  keep  count  of  the  ones  killed  by 
them,  and  that  suited  me  all  right,  for  I  did  well  with  my 
counting.  I  could  not  get  any  cow-boys  to  stay  at  the 
camp  to  look  after  the  cattle,  so  they  were  soon  all  killed 
off  by  the  Indians.  The  Chiricahuas  were  not  the  only 
ones  doing  the  killing.  The  San  Carlos,  and  White 
Mountain  Indians  all  helped  themselves. 

It  did  not  take  a  very  wise  man  to  see  that  the  In 
dians  were  running  the  mill  to  suit  themselves.  Major 
Chaffee  had  been  relieved  and  sent  to  Fort  McDowell 
and  a  man  named  Tiffany,  a  civilian,  was  agent.  There 
were  no  troops  at  the  Agency  and  things  looked  a  good 
deal  more  like  a  hostile  Indian  camp  than  did  the  camp 
of  Geronimo  when  we  had  gone  to  have  the  talk  with 
him  the  year  before  in  Mexico. 

A  man  named  Stirling  was  Chief  of  Police  at  the 
Agency  and  lie  had  eleven  police  to  keep  the  peace  of 
the  Agency.  They  wrorked  for  the  Interior  Department 
and  not  for  the  War  Department. 

Stirling  was  absolutely  without  fear  and  an  able  and 
intelligent  scout,  but  what  could  he  do  toward  handling 
5,000  or  6,000  wild  or  half  wild  Indians  with  but  eleven 
police?  These  police  were  Indians,  and  would  have 


62  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  : 

been  splendid  men  had  they  had  any  show ;  but  as  things 
were,  they  were  disgusted. 

Tiffany,  the  agent,  was  so  busy  selling  the  Indians' 
rations  to  freighters,  prospectors  and  to  merchants  in 
Globe  and  McMilenville,  that  Indian  troubles  did  not 
bother  him  in  the  least.  Major  Chaffee  had  accumulated 
a  large  amount  of  rations  during  his  time  as  agent,  and 
all  the  store  houses  were  full  of  rations  when  Tiffany 
took  charge.  Tiffany  was  a  very  industrious  and  busi 
ness-like  politician,  and  immediately  commenced  to  dis 
burse  that  grub  at  the  rate  of  f  5.00  for  a  hundred  pounds 
of  flour,  and  flO.OO  a  hundred  for  sugar.  That  was  dirt 
cheap  in  that  country  at  that  time,  but  Mr.  Tiffany  soon 
found  himself  arrested  and  taken  before  the  United 
States  Court  at  Tucson,  and  I  think  was  charged  with 
not  being  able  to  account  for  $54,000.00  worth  of  rations. 
This  all  happened  in  six  or  eight  months.  Nothing  was 
ever  done  to  him  that  I  remember  of,  though  he  was  in 
the  courts  for  several  years  with  this  business. 


A  VINDICATION.  63 


CHAPTER  VII. 


An  Indian  Outbreak — Death  of  Stirling — Horn  Carries 
News  of  Outbreak  to  Camp  Thomas — Pursuing  the 
Renegades.      "Six    Men    Killed    in    One    Minute."- 
Horn's  Knowledge  of  Apache  Language  Saves  the 
Command.  

Such  was  the  condition  of  affairs  at  the  Agency  it 
self,  so  it  was  small  wonder  that  in  the  spring  of  '80,  Ju 
came  up  from  the  renegades  in  Mexico  and  brought  one 
hundred  men  with  him  to  take  Loco  and  his  band  back 
to  Mexico.  I  was  living  five  miles  above  the  Agency  and 
the  Chiricahua  camp  was  half-way  between  me  and  the 
Agency.  I  think  it  was  May  5th,  1880,  that  this  out 
break  occurred. 

There  were  supposed  to  be  about  700  Indians  belong 
ing  to  Loco's  camp,  but  no  one  knew  the  exact  number. 
The  settlers  in  the  country  said  there  was  a  continuous 
string  of  Indians  going  and  coming  from  Mexico  to  San 
Carlos,  and  I  think  such  was  the  case.  Personally  I  do 
not  know,  for  I  was  at  San  Carlos  all  the  time. 

At  daylight,  or  a  very  little  after,  I  heard  a  lot  of 
firing  at  the  Chiricahua  camp.  There  were  Indians 
camped  all  around  me,  and  they  began  to  arm  themselves, 
and  in  about  ten  minutes  word  came  in  that  the  Chiri- 
cahuas  were  leaving  for  the  war  path.  There  were 
"things  doin'  "  then  for  sure.  In  a  very  few  minutes  all 
the  Indians  around  my  camp  were  ready.  Of  course  we 


t)4  LIFE    OF    TOM    HORN  : 

did  not  want  to  tight,  as  the  Bronks,  (as  we  called  the 
Chiricahua)  far  out-numbered  us.  Across  the  Gila  Val 
ley  rose  a  big  spire  of  iron  ore,  or  rather  a  good  many  of 
them,  making  an  ideal  fortification,  and  there  we  all 
went.  It  was  a  fine  fort,  its  prominence  giving  us  an 
excellent  view  of  the  country,  and  as  the  Bronks  had  to 
pass  along  directly  under  us,  it  gave  us  such  a  view  as 
even  few  Indian  scouts  have  a  chance  to  see. 

Just  as  the  sun  came  up,  here  they  came.  Great 
droves  of  horses  and  mules  were  strung  out  for  about 
a  mile  and  a  half.  There  must  have  been  5,000  head  of 
them.  Squaws  and  Indian  children  everywhere,  driving 
the  stock.  Of  course  they  had  their  camp  outfits.  The 
squaws  were  all  yelling  at  the  children,  and  the  children 
all  yelling  at  the  loose  stock.  A  small  bunch  of  per 
haps  twenty  warriors  was  in  front,  and  behind  was  the 
main  band  of  warriors. 

Stirling  had  heard  the  outbreak  just  at  daylight,  as  1 
had.  He  was  at  the  Agency.  He  jumped  on  his  horse, 
and  with  one  Indian  policeman,  a  captive  called  Navajo 
Bill,  he  rode  right  into  the  Chiricahua  camp.  He  "never 
smiled  again,"  as  he  was  killed  just  as  he  came  up  the 
bank  of  the  San  Carlos  River.  A  squaw  cut  his  head  off. 
He  was  shot  about  seventy-five  or  one  hundred  times. 
Navajo  Bill  escaped,  but  how,  one  can  scarcely  tell,  for  he 
was  right  with  Stirling. 

Navajo  Bill  swung  back  toward  the  Agency  and  the 
rest  of  the  police  came  to  him,  and  again  they  rode  at  the 
Chiricahuas,  and  one  more  policeman  was  killed.  There 
were  at  least  two  hundred  Chiricahua  warriors,  and 
these  police,  (there  were  only  seven  of  them  when  they 
came  up  to  where  I  was)  kept  right  up  with  the  Broncos, 


A    VINDICATION.  65 

and  killed  one  of  them  just  below  and  in  plain  sight  of 
myself  and  the  party  with  me. 

After  this  Chiricahua  was  killed,  the  rest  of  them 
seemed  to  think  that  something  must  be  done,  so  they 
threw  out  several  little  bunches  of  men,  about  five  or 
six  in  a  bunch,  and  they  dropped  into  gulches  and  in  the 
grass  and  willows.  The  police  saw  this  and  went  to 
high  ground  and  stopped. 

The  Chiricahua  wrere  about  half  an  hour  passing  the 
point  where  I  was  located.  Some  of  the  warriors  in  the 
rear  guard  stopped  and  looked  at  us  for  a  minute  or  two, 
but  I  could  not  hear  what  they  were  saying.  They  were 
not  more  than  three  hundred  yards  from  us.  We 
on  our  part  made  no  attempt  to  fire  on  them,  and  for  my 
part  I  was  glad  to  see  them  leave  us  alone.  They  could 
not  have  hurt  us  much  where  we  were,  as  we  had  a  fine 
place,  and  there  were  fourteen  men  with  me,  all  of  whom 
said  there  wras  no  danger  of  the  Indians  firing  on  us. 

As  soon  as  the  Bronks  had  all  passed  and  gone,  I 
went  to  the  Agency  and  found  a  very  confused  state  of 
affairs.  There  were  no  troops.  Stirling,  the  Chief  of 
Police  and  main-stay  of  the  Agency,  was  killed.  The 
Indians  had  cut  the  telegraph  wire  running  into  the 
Agency,  and  the  chief  clerk  in  charge  of  the  Agency  was 
only  a  tenderfoot,  and  he  thought  all  the  Indians  on  the 
Reservation  had  gone  on  the  war  path.  There  were  lots 
of  guns  and  ammunition  at  the  Agency,  and  the  chief 
clerk  was  giving  a  rifle  and  ammunition  to  every  Indian 
buck  who  wTanted  one.  The  Indians  at  the  Agency  and  be 
low  the  Agency  knew  that  it  was  only  an  outbreak  of  the 
Chiricahuas,  but  they  were  taking  all  the  guns  and 
ammunition  they  could  get.  The  chief  clerk  kept  no  ac- 


66  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  : 

count  of  the  guns,  and  did  not  know  to  whom  he  had 
givren  them,  and  very  few  of  them  did  he  ever  get  back. 

We  could  get  no  news  from  anywhere,  and  it  was 
necessary  to  inform  the  troops  as  soon  as  possible,  so  I 
started  up  to  Camp  Thomas,  thirty-two  miles  up  the 
river  and  in  the  direction  in  which  the  Bronco  Indians 
had  gone.  I  got  up  there  by  10:00  o'clock,  for  I  rode  fast. 
The  commanding  officer  at  Camp  Thomas  had  gotten  the 
news  that  there  was  something  wrong,  but  he  could  get 
no  news  from  San  Carlos,  and  when  I  got  into  Camp 
Thomas  there  was  a  squad  of  soldiers  all  ready  to  start 
toward  San  Carlos  to  see  if  they  could  learn  what  the 
trouble  was.  These  men  were  at  the  Adjutant's  office 
all  ready  to  go  when  I  rode  into  the  Post. 

Sieber  was  there  talking  to  some  Indians,  and  all 
those  Indians  knew  was  that  the  Indians  down  the  river 
had  signalled  that  there  was  trouble  from  the  Chirica- 
huas.  Apaches  can  signal  for  a  long  ways  when  there  is 
trouble,  but  they  can  not  give  details  by  their  signals. 

There  were  only  two  troops  of  cavalry  at  Camp 
Thomas,  but  their  telegraph  was  all  right,  and  troops  all 
over  the  Department  were  soon  notified.  The  Gila  River 
was  swollen,  and  I  had  to  swim  it  to  get  to  Camp  Thomas, 
but  I  swam  it  at  San  Carlos,  (San  Carlos  and  Fort 
Thomas — now  abandoned — are  both  on  the  Gila  river). 

It  was  a  sure  thing  the  renegades  would  have  to  keep 
east  toward  the  upper  Gila,  as  the  river  was  so  high  they 
would  not  attempt  to  cross  it  unless  forced  to  by  the 
troops. 

Sieber  made  arrangements  for  the  troops  to  come 
toward  Ash  Creek,  and  he  and  I  again  swam  the  river, 
and  struck  out  toward  that  part  of  the  country  he 


A   VINDICATION.  67 

thought  they  would  come  through.  We  thought  that  T 
was  before  them,  and  so  I  proved  to  be. 

On  Ash  Flats,  about  twelve  miles  from  Camp  Thomas 
and  about  twenty-five  miles  from  San  Carlos,  wre  could 
see  the  dust  they  raised.  There  were  so  many  of  them 
they  could  not  travel  fast.  They  were  handicapped  by 
the  hundreds  of  extra  horses  they  had.  We  got  on  top 
of  what  was  called  Green's  Hill,  and  watched  the  big  dust 
which  was,  maybe,  two  and  a  half  miles  away.  Sieber 
said  they  would  all  scatter  that  night  and  go  in  small 
bunches  toward  Mexico  and  all  come  together  again  close 
to  the  line. 

While  we  were  looking  at  the  dust,  (they  were  in  a 
swale,  so  we  could  not  see  the  Indians  themselves)  to  our 
left,  we  saw  six  Indians  coming  straight  toward  us,  about 
five  hundred  yards  away.  They  were  coming  to  get  on 
Green's  Hill  themselves,  apparantly,  but  they  saw  us 
just  as  we  saw  them. 

They  turned  around  and  rode  into  a  gulch  that  led 
off  toward  the  main  band  of  Indians.  They  were  vidett  es, 
for  a  large  body  of  renegades  when  they  are  traveling, 
keep  out  guards  on  all  sides  and  before  and  behind. 

All  that  Sieber  and  I  could  do  was  to  watch  them. 
Sieber  had  told  the  troops  at  Thomas  how  to  come  on 
the  Eagle  Creek  trail,  and  that  we  would  find  them  that 
night.  The  way  the  troops  were  directed  to  go,  they 
would  be  about  twenty  miles  from  where  we  were  then 
some  time  during  the  night;  so  Sieber  said  we  wrould  go 
and  join  the  troops,  but  that  we  would  have  to  wait 
till  the  Indians  split  up,  for  all  the  troops  in  Camp 
Thomas  could  not  stop  that  bunch  of  Indians  and  that 


68  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

it  would  be  several  days  before  any  more  troops  could 
join  us. 

We  pulled  out  for  where  our  troops  were  to  come. 
They  were  guided  by  Micky  Free,  and  he  was  so  reckless 
and  loved  to  fight  so  well  that  he  would  have  led  those 
two  troops  right  into  any  kind  of  a  trap.  Micky  knew  he 
could  get  the  troops  into  any  kind  of  a  trap  and  come  out 
all  right  himself,  for  the  fellow  seemed  to  bear  a  charmed 
life. 

We  struck  the  troops  as  we  expected,  that  night,  and 
Sieber  told  the  officer  in  command  how  things  wrere. 
Gatewood,  (that  was  his  name)  said  that  if  we  could 
strike  them  the  next  day  he  would  "try  them  a  lick."  He 
said,  "We  may  not  be  able  to  lick  them,  but  we  will  try 
it  if  we  can  find  them." 

So  we  did.  We  struck  them  and  got  six  men  killed  in 
a  minute.  Sieber  told  Gatewood  that  the  warriors  we 
were  trying  to  whip  wrere  better  men  than  his  soldiers 
in  any  place  that  we  could  strike  them.  We  buried  our 
dead  men  and  made  arrangements  to  send  the  wounded 
back  to.  Camp  Thomas,  and  we  had  only  thirty-six 
soldiers  left.  Gatewood  was  shot  in  the  shoulder,  but  he 
would  not  go  back. 

By  the  time  we  started  again  it  was  getting  late  in 
the  day,  so,  as  the  Indians  wrere  some  distance  ahead  by 
this  time,  Sieber,  Micky  Free  and  I  started  on  and  left  the 
troops  to  come  more  leisurely.  We  three  got  over  on  the 
head  of  Eagle  Creek  late  that  night,  and  the  next  morn 
ing  we  found  that  the  Indians  had  broken  up  into  small 
bands  and  they  left  about  a  thousand  head  of  stock  on 
the  head  of  Eagle  Creek.  They  did  not  abandon  them  be 
cause  they  had  to  do  so,  but  because  they  did  not  care 


A    VINDICATION.  69 

for  them.  I  forgot  to  say  that  we  got  about  two  hundred 
head  of  horses  where  we  struck  them  the  day  before. 
From  that  time  on  they  left  a  string  of  horses  behind 
them.  Most  of  the  animals  were  played  out. 

Gatewood  took  these  horses  and  turned  back.  It 
took  all  his  men  to  handle  the  stock.  Sieber,  Micky  and 
I  went  on  after  the  Indians,  knowing  that  more  troops 
would  come  in  to  try  to  join  us  from  Fort  Baird  and  the 
New  Mexico  country. 

By  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  we  were  again  in 
sight  of  the  Indians  as  they  crossed  the  divide  onto  Blue 
River.  So  we  kept  along  and  passed  the  Indians  that 
night,  at  least,  the  bunch  of  them  that  we  were  following. 
We  went  over  toward  Clifton  that  night  and  next  day 
rode  into  the  town  and  found  that  they  knew  the  Indians 
were  out  and  that  everybody  in  the  country  had  come 
into  the  little  towns  around.  We  decided  we  would  go 
on  over  to  the  Stein's  Peak  Mountains,  as  we  knew  the 
Indians  were  sure  to  come  that  way.  We  heard  that 
some  soldiers  had  gone  toward  Ash  Springs,  so  Sieber 
told  me  to  go  and  get  them  and  camp  them  at  Cotton- 
wood  and  Indian  Springs,  and  at  a  place  called  Horse 
Camp. 

I  started  and  found  the  troops  at  Ash  Springs,  but 
they  were  pretty  well  worn  out  and  they  wanted  to  rest 
their  horses  a  while.  I  had  gotten  a  couple  of  good  horses 
at  the  Rail  N.  Ranch  and  was  pretty  well  fixed  for  a 
mount.  We  did  not  leave  Ash  Springs  till  night,  and  it 
was  morning  as  we  pulled  into  Whitlock's.  As  we  were 
watering  our  horses,  I  noticed  that  the  cattle  were 
running  up  above  us,  and  there  were  the  Indians. 


TO  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  : 

They  were  just  coming  around  a  point,  and  as  I  saw 
them  they  saw  the  soldiers.  The  soldiers  started  to 
deploy  skirmishers  on  foot,  and  the  Indians  turned  and 
ran  up  on  a  rocky  point  and  gave  us  a  good  big  stand-off. 

I  had  told  this  officer  (I  do  not  recollect  his  name)  of 
how  we  got  whipped  over  on  the  other  side  of  the  Gila, 
and  he  said  all  he  wanted  me  to  do  was  to  show  him 
Indians. 

This  lieutenant  had  run  behind  the  ruins  of  an  old 
adobe  house,  and  was  directing  his  men  to  get  the  horses 
out  of  range  of  the  Indians.  I  saw  the  Indians  separat 
ing  into  bunches,  and  I  heard  one  of  them  directing  the 
other  how  to  go  and  get  a  position  on  high  ground,  and 
drive  us  away,  so  their  outfit  could  get  into  water.  I 
told  the  officer  what  the  Indians  were  saying,  and  what 
they  were  going  to  do,  and  he  said:  "Damn  'em!  If 
they  want  this  water  they  can  have  it,  for  it  is  strong 
alkali  and  warm  to  boot."  So  we  all  mounted  and  rode 
down  into  the  flat  and  let  the  Indians  come  in  to  water. 
Had  we  not  left,  the  Indians  would  have  gotten  the 
whole  works  of  us. 

(This  is  just  the  commencing  of  the  regular  Indian 
war.) 

The  Indians,  after  about  an  hour,  came  down  towards 
us  for  a  ways  with  their  entire  outfit,  and  then  swung 
up  the  San  Simon  Valley,  and  the  bucks  dropped  behind 
so  as  to  keep  between  us  and  the  squaws.  They  were 
headed  towards  Doubtful  Canon,  and  so  I  told  the  officer 
in  charge  of  the  troops. 

That  poor  fellow  did  not  know  what  to  do.  The  In 
dians  outnumbered  us  and  could  whip  us,  and  I  told  him 
so;  and  I  had  previously  told  him  of  the  way  Gatewood 


A   VINDICATION.  71 

made  his  fight  with  no  show  to  win,  and  got  six  men 
killed  and  eleven  wounded.  So,  as  we  could  not  do 
anything  to  the  Indians  after  they  had  gone,  we  struck 
out  in  the  same  direction,  keeping  them  or  their  dust 
in  sight.  I  knew  that  there  were  plenty  of  soldiers  out 
after  the  Indians,  and  that  there  wrould  be  one  or  more 
troops  of  cavalry  after  each  band  of  Indians,  and  I 
thought  all  the  rest  of  them  would  be  in  the  same  fix 
as  ourselves.  This  I  told  the  lieutenant;  so  we  then 
wanted  to  find  more  soldiers. 

Things  proved  to  be  exactly  as  I  had  an  idea  they 
would  be.  When  wre  got  up  to  Indian  Springs,  in  the 
Stem's  Mountains,  the  Indians  turned  from  the  open  val 
ley  directly  into  the  Stein's  Mountains  towrards  the  head 
of  Doubtful  Canon. 

Hostile  Indians  from  the  upper  Gila  country  would 
nearly  always  come  through  that  section  of  the  country, 
as  it  was  decidedly  an  Indian  rendezvous,  and  from 
Stein's  Mountains  to  the  Mexico  line  there  were  neither 
settlements  nor  forts. 

As  the  Indians  turned  into  the  mountains  we  saw 
there  was  quite  a  commotion  among  them,  and  shortly 
after  we  heard  firing  over  on  the  east  side  of  the  moun 
tains. 

Our  Indians  had  heard  it  first,  as  they  were  a  couple 
of  miles  closer  than  we  were  to  the  firing.  It  proved  to 
be  Sieber  and  Micky  Free,  with  three  small  bunches  of 
soldiers  they  had  picked  up  and  got  together,  and  they 
were  on  trail  of,  and  had  come  up  with,  two  more 
bunches  of  these  Indians  that  had  separated  upon  the 
head  of  Eagle  Creek. 


72  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

The  firing  continued  for  about  an  hour.  The  Indians 
we  were  following  went  directly  towards  the  firing  and 
we  did  the  same.  We  were  not  more  than  a  mile  from 
our  band,  and  some  of  the  guard  for  the  Indians  were 
not  over  half  a  mile  from  us.  When  we  got  to  the  top 
of  the  divide  we  could  see  there  was  a  fight  on  between 
the  troops  and  the  Indians  on  the  other  side,  so  we 
went  as  fast  as  we  could  to  join  them. 

It  was  getting  late,  and  was  just  about  sundown  when 
we  got  to  the  part  of  the  troop  where  there  were  two 
dead  soldiers  and  five  wounded  ones.  The  main  com 
mand  was  just  drawing  off,  and  as  it  was  night,  and  all 
of  the  cavalry  horses  were  about  played  out,  or  at  least 
well  jaded,  camp  was  made  there  in  what  was  called 
Cottonwood. 

We  were  all  tired  and  hungry,  and  the  first  thing  we 
did  was  to  get  something  to  eat.  Micky  Free  and  I  lay 
down  and  went  to  sleep  as  soon  as  we  got  something  to 
eat. 


A    VINDICATION.  73 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


Wanted:  More  Soldiers.  Sieber's  "Growl" — Apparent  Mis 
management  of  Indian  Affairs — A  Scout's  Duty — Ma 
jor  Tupper  Wants  "to  Get  a  Lick  at  the  Indians" — 
Forty  Soldiers  and  Twenty-five  Scouts  Against  Three 
Hundred  Chiricahua  Braves — Over  the  Line  Into 
Mexico — Sieber  Locates  Hostile  Camp. 


About  11  or  12  o'clock  Sieber  came  and  woke  us 
up,  and  told  us  to  get  our  horses  and  be  ready  to  go 
with  him  on  after  the  Indians.  I  asked  Sieber  what  was 
the  use  to  go  monkeying  along  after  those  Indians  by 
ourselves  when  all  the  soldiers  could  not  handle  them. 
Sieber  spoke  to  me  in  a  language  that  was  more  liable  to 
be  called  forcible  than  elegant,  and  told  me  that  the  ac 
tion  or  scarcity  of  soldiers  was  no  concern  of  mine;  that 
if  they  could  not  whip  the  Indians,  that  did  not  concern 
me  or  him;  that  I  was  a  Government  scout  and  he  was 
my  chief,  and  that  he  could  not  command  the  Depart 
ment  and  get  sufficient  troops  on  hand  to  whip  the  In 
dians.  "But,"  said  he,  "I  can  and  will  keep  up  with  the 
Indians,  and  you  and  Micky  must  come."  Sieber  was 
mad,  and  anyone  that  knew  him  and  worked  under  him 
would  soon  come  to  do  as  he  said  and  ask  no  questions. 
I  was  tired  and  sleepy,  but  here  was  this  old,  gray- 
headed,  iron-hearted  man  who  had  been  at  work  while 
I  was  asleep;  for,  during  the  time  that  we  drew  away 


74  LIFE  OF   TOM    HORN  I 

and  made  camp  and  got  something  to  eat,  he  had  gone 
on  foot  and  noted  which  way  the  Indians  went.  Then 
he  had  come  back  and  gotten  something  to  eat,  and  woke 
Micky  and  me  to  go  on.  Sieber  at  this  time  was  fifty-five 
years  old;  but,  as  I  said  once  before,  in  a  case  of  this 
kind  he  never  seemed  to  want  to  sleep,  and  he  did  not 
get  a  chance  to  eat  afterward. 

We  rode  all  night  across  and  up  the  San  Simon  Val 
ley,  and  Sieber  said  the  Indians  would  strike  the  Chiri- 
cahua  Mountains  at  Turkey  Creek,  or  maybe  go  on  up 
as  far  as  Cane  Creek. 

At  sun-up  we  were  not  more  than  ten  miles  behind  the 
Indians,  for  they  had  gone  just  as  Sieber  said  they  would. 
Where  the  Turkey  Creek  comes  out  of  the  Chiricahua 
Mountains  the  ground  is  higher  than  it  is  out  in  the  val 
ley  where  we  were,  and  we  could  see  the  Indians  going 
in  on  Turkey  Creek.  They  made  a  terrific  dust,  and  it 
was  seen  plainly  by  the  soldiers  we  had  left  in  the  night, 
a  distance  of  thirty-five  or  forty  miles. 

The  Indians  went  into  camp  on  Turkey  Creek  and 
stayed  there  all  day.  They  had  out  guards  on  all  sides. 
We  (Sieber,  Micky  Free  and  I)  camped  on  a  little  gulch 
that  ran  into  Turkey  Creek.  There  was  a  spring  at  the 
head  of  this  gulch  on  a  mesa,  and  we  could  see  for 
quite  a  good  distance  around  us.  The  Indian  camp  was 
about  two  miles  above  us.  Some  of  the  Indian  pickets 
were  in  sight  of  us  most  of  the  time.  Sieber  said  they 
would  not  molest  us  if  we  did  not  go  right  up  to  their 
camp,  and  this  we  had  no  idea  of  doing. 

By  10  o'clock  that  morning  we  could  distinctly  see 
the  dust  of  our  troops  coming  across  the  San  Simon  Val 
ley.  The  dust  sprang  into  sight  all  at  once,  and  the 


A   VINDICATION.  75 

Broncos  saw  it  at  the  same  time  that  our  party  did. 
We  heard  a  great  yell  up  at  the  hostile  camp  when  this 
big  dust  was  first  sighted.  It  was  still  about  twenty- 
five  miles  off.  After  we"  saw  this  dust,  Sieber  told  Micky 
and  me  to  keep  awake  and  on  the  lookout,  for  he  was 
going  to  take  a  little  sleep. 

We  did  keep  a  good  eye  open,  but  we  were  not  mo 
lested.  Our  horses  were  very  tired,  but  each  of  us  had 
two  horses,  and  that  gave  us  a  great  advantage  over  the 
troops. 

Somewhere  about  four  o'clock  in  the  evening  the 
troops  pulled  in  and  went  into  camp  about  three  miles 
below  the  Indians,  on  Turkey  Creek.  The  cavalry  horses 
were  very  tired  and  warm,  and  it  took  some  time  to  get 
them  watered.  A  consultation  was  held  by  all  the  offi 
cers  and  scouts.  Pat  Kehoe  had  come  up  with  the  sol 
diers,  having  overtaken  them  during  the  day.  Pat  said 
there  were  only  bucks  in  the  party,  with  the  exception 
of  a  few  squaws  to  tend  camp.  Sieber,  Micky  and  I  had 
not  seen  any  of  the  camps  made  by  them  since  they  split 
up  on  Eagle  Creek,  and  I  saw  only  bucks  at  Whitlock's, 
and  as  the  bunch  that  had  come  together  did  not  have 
the  least  fear  of  us,  we  thought  that  we  were  following 
the  warriors,  and  that  they  were  making  a  play  to  keep 
all  the  troops  after  them;  that  the  most  of  the  women 
and  children  and  a  few  of  the  best  warriors  had  kept 
a  little  behind,  and  calculated  to  drop  in  behind  the 
troops,  and  so  get  into  Mexico  unmolested. 

The  Indians  were  swarming  on  the  hills  above  us, 
but  did  not  act  as  though  they  were  going  to  attack. 
Sieber  said  they  were  breaking  camp  and  pulling  out 
again  to  travel  all  night,  and  that  the  Indians  in  sight 


76  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

just  wanted  to  take  a  look  at  us  before  they  left.  By 
6  o'clock  they  had  all  gone,  and  Sieber  told  Micky  and 
me  to  get  ready  to  follow  them. 

After  dark  we  pulled  out  for  a  place  called  Clover- 
dale,  as  Sieber  said  that  would  be  the  next  stopping  place 
of  the  Indians.  Sieber  was  mad,  and  would  not  talk  for 
a  long  time.  We  were  crossing  the  head  of  the  San 
Simon  Valley  and  swinging  well  east  again. 

Along  about  midnight  we  stopped  to  change  horses. 
Sieber  then  commenced  to  talk  to  me,  and  Micky  asked 
him  to  talk  Spanish  so  he,  too,  could  understand.  Sieber 
had  his  roasting  talk  on. 

"What  is  the  use,"  he  said,  "for  us  to  be  monkeying 
along  here  after  these  Indians.  There  never  will  be  sol 
diers  enough  to  catch  up  with  us  to  whip  them,  for  there 
are  at  least  two  hundred  of  them;  this  division  of  the 
party  are  no  doubt  led  by  Natchez  and  Chihuahua,  and 
man  for  man  in  the  rough  country  they  can  easily  whip 
any  troop  in  the  world,  for  they  will  never  come  into  an 
engagement  unless  they  have  far  the  best  of  the  ground; 
and  if  it  comes  to  a  pinch  they  can  abandon  everything 
and  go  on  foot,  and  then  no  one  could  do  anything  with 
them.  I  have  reported  to  the  Department  Commander 
a  half  dozen  times  during  the  winter  that  these  Indians 
would  break  out  as  soon  as  spring  came,  and  I  have 
pointed  out  to  him  that  he  had  no  transportation  for 
his  troops,  and  that  there  was  no  preparation  made  to 
pursue  them  when  they  did  go.  Now,  you  see  how  it  is. 
There  are  those  soldiers  we  just  left.  They  have  no 
grain  for  their  horses,  and  very  little  or  no  rations  for 
themselves.  And  here  we  are  'piking'  along  after  these 
fellows  just  as  though  we  were  doing  some  good. 


A    VINDICATION.  77 

"Boys,"  went  on  Sieber,  "this  outbreak  means  a  long 
war,  and  there  will  come  a  time  when  there  wTill  be  some 
kind  of  organization  for  the  soldiers  in  the  field.  They 
must  have  transportation  in  the  shape  of  wagons  and 
pack  trains,  and  camps  must  be  established  at  Turkey 
Creek  and  Cane  Creek  and  Cloverdale,  where  we  are 
headed  now,  and  at  every  other  prominent  place  some 
where  near  here,  or  near  the  line  of  Mexico.  Our  present 
Department  Commander  doesn't  understand  these  things, 
and  he  doesn't  understand  anything  about  Indians.  Now, 
you  boys  can  plainly  see  what  I  am  explaining  to  you. 
We  are  perfectly  harmless  to  the  Indians,  and  they  know 
it  as  well  as  wre  do. 

"There  is  always  one  thing  a  man  can  do  under  cir 
cumstances  of  this  kind,  and  that  is,  just  go  on  and  keep 
in  touch  with  both  the  soldiers  and  Broncos.  We  are 
merely  scouts,  and  can  only  showr  the  soldiers  how  and 
where  to  go.  After  we  get  them  up  to  the  Indians,  we 
can  do  no  more,  for  it  is  the  commissioned  officer  who 
commands  the  troops  and  not  the  scouts.  You  boys  do 
as  I  tell  you,  and  while  the  soldiers  may  be  censured  by 
the  President  and  the  people,  if  we  do  our  part  everyone 
will  know  it,  and  we  wrill  never  be  blamed." 

Sieber  felt  better  after  he  had  had  a  good  growl ;  said 
he  was  a  fool  to  expect  anything  else,  and  that  was  an 
end  to  his  growl. 

Daylight  found  us  on  a  hill  overlooking  Cloverdale, 
and  the  whole  place  seemed  alive  with  Indians.  Sieber 
said  they  had  been  joined  by  another  big  band,  or  had 
run  into  them  there  at  Cloverdale. 

The  Mexico  line  was  about  a  mile  south  of  Cloverdale. 
Sieber  said  we  would  stay  and  watch  the  Indians  all  day, 


78  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

and  that  in  the  evening  the  hostiles  would  cross  over 
into  Mexico.  "And  in  a  day  or  two  after  they  are  gone," 
he  added,  "there  will  be  troops  enough  here  to  whip 
them,  but  they  will  be  in  Mexico  and  perfectly  safe,  as 
no  army  officer  would  think  of  crossing  the  line,  as  he 
would  lose  his  commission  if  he  did." 

We  stayed  close  to  the  Indians  to  see  all  that  there 
was  to  be  seen,  for  that  was  all  we  could  do.  Sieber  es 
timated  that  there  were  five  hundred  of  them.  We  could 
see  dozens  of  women  and  children  who  had  joined  our 
bunch  during  the  night,  or  had  been  at  Cloverdale  when 
our  band  got  there. 

Along  about  three  o'clock  in  the  evening  we  saw  they 
were  getting  ready  to  go,  and  as  some  of  the  advance 
guard  started  off  in  an  easterly  direction,  we  got  ready 
and  struck  out  that  way,  knowing  the  main  band  of  In 
dians  would  cross  still  further  east.  We  figured  that 
there  was  still  a  big  band  that  had  not  arrived  yet;  they 
were  evidently  waiting  for  the  entire  bunch  before  cross 
ing  into  Mexico.  This  advance  guard  showed  us  that 
they  were  all  going  towards  a  place  on  the  line,  or  close 
to  the  line,  called  Aqua  Blanco.  We  pulled  out  in  the 
same  direction,  leaving  the  main  bunch  of  Indians  to 
come  later,  as  we  knew  they  would. 

They  could  all  have  crossed  the  line  right  where 
they  were  camped,  at  Cloverdale,  but  a  short  distance 
south  in  Mexico  the  country  grew  very  rough,  and  was 
hard  for  a  big  band  of  Indians  to  get  through  and  all  of 
them  keep  together,  and  if  -they  went  over  by  Aqua 
Blanco,  they  could  cross  over  into  Mexico  and  have  good 
open  country  to  travel  in.  Also,  from  Cloverdale,  the 
San  Luis  Pass  opened  through  the  San  Luis  Mountains 


A    VINDICATION.  79 

into  a  large  open  country  or  plain  in  Mexico  called  Llano 
de  Janos,  or  Janos  Plains.  Any  Indians  that  had  kept 
farther  up  the  Gila  would  naturally  come  in  from  the 
east  and  turn  down  this  plain  by  the  Aqua  Blanco. 

Well,  what  they  did  do  was  this:  The  main  bunch 
went  through  the  San  Luis  Pass,  and  the  picket  or  ad 
vance  guard  went  over  by  Aqua  Blanco,  striking  the  trail 
of  Indians  who  had  come  from  farther  east  and  gone 
into  Mexico  ahead  of  them.  The  pickets  may  have 
struck  some  of  the  Indians  belonging  to  the  eastern  band, 
for  at  night  everything  in  sight  was  in  Mexico  and  all 
headed,  so  we  calculated,  towards  the  Sierra  Media,  in 
Mexico.  From  a  spur  of  the  San  Luis  Mountains  we 
could  distinctly  see  four  bands  crossing  into  Mexico  at 
sundown. 

Sieber  swore  softly,  and  seemed,  in  a  gratified,  know 
ing  way,  not  to  care  much.  When  it  was  dark  we  turned 
back  and  went  towards  Cloverdale  again. 

At  Cloverdale  we  struck  some  new  soldiers,  and  they 
had  a  pack  train  and  some  grub  and  grain  with  them. 
Major  Tupper  was  in  command,  and  as  scouts  he  had 
Sage  and  some  twenty  Apaches.  His  troop  consisted 
of  more  than  forty  men,  and  Major  Tupper  was  glad  to 
see  us.  His  Apache  scouts  had  informed  him  that  we 
were  in  the  country,  but  that  we  were  most  likely  on  the 
flank  of  the  Broncos. 

These  scouts  had  seen  our  trail  and  followed  it  a  short 
distance,  and  they  could  see  by  the  route  we  took  that 
we  were  on  the  lookout;  that  we  were  watching  to  the 
south  towards  where  the  hostiles  would  naturally  be. 
All  the  elevations  that  we  rode  onto  commanded  a  view 
south,  and  had  our  trail  been  made  by  the  Bronco  pick- 


80  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  : 

ets,  the  elevations  that  we  rode  over  would  have  been 
places  that  commanded  a  view  to  the  north,  whence 
troops  were  likely  to  come.  On  one  high  point,  where 
these  scouts  of  Tupper's  turned  back,  they  found  a  quid 
of  chewing  tobacco;  they  were  then  satisfied  it  was  Sie- 
ber,  and  they  knew  Micky  and  I  would  be  with  him. 

Major  Tupper  was  an  old  Civil  War  veteran  and  he 
wanted  to  "get  a  lick  at  the  Indians."  He  had  rations 
for  twenty-five  days  more,  and  was  not  trying  to  get 
back  to  the  Post  by  the  easiest  route.  While  the  men 
got  us  up  a  really  good  meal,  he  made  a  good  many  in 
quiries  about  the  country  to  the  south,  Mexico.  Sieber 
thought  at  first  the  old  man  was  just  talking,  but  after 
we  got  through  eating  Tupper  kept  on  talking.  Sage 
said  to  Micky  in  Apache,  that  the  old  Captain,  meaning 
Tupper,  was  not  afraid  to  cross  the  Mexico  line  in  pur 
suit  of  the  Broncos. 

Sieber  understood  what  Sage  said  and  he  turned  to 
Major  Tupper  and  inquired,  "Is  that  so,  Major?" 

Tupper  asked  him  what  was  so.  Then  Sieber,  seeing 
that  Tupper  could  not  have  understood  Sage  and  the 
Indians,  asked  him  if  he  cared  to  cross  the  line  after  the 
Indians. 

Tupper  did  not  want  to  talk  before  the  soldiers  and 
scouts,  so  he  and  Sieber  went  off  out  of  camp  and  had  a 
talk.  In  about  half  an  hour  they  came  back;  Tupper 
gave  command  to  "Get-a-going,"  and  in  about  an  hour 
we  pulled  out  for  Mexico.  It  was  about  three  o'clock  in 
the  morning. 

Sieber  and  Major  Tupper  seemed  to  have  settled  the 
thing  between  themselves.  I  finally  ventured  a  word  at 
Sieber,  and  asked  him  if  that  old  man  thought  he  could 


J 


A    VINDICATION.  81 

whip  three  hundred  Chiricahua  braves  with  forty  soldiers 
and  twenty-five  scouts. 

"Why,  the  old  man  is  crazy  to  get  a  chance,"  said 
Sieber,  "We  must  be  very  careful  and  not  let  him  get  too 
many  of  his  men  killed." 

Before  sunup  we  went  into  camp  in  the  rough  hills, 
but  Sieber,  and  not  Tupper,  was  running  things  then. 
Every  horse  was  kept  in  the  low  places  and  not  allowed 
to  go  on  top  of  any  ridge  or  hill.  Soldiers  were  all  made 
to  keep  under  cover.  Sieber  put  some  of  the  Apache 
scouts  to  watch  the  soldiers  and  keep  them  out  of  sight, 
for  if  we  were  to  strike  the  Broncos  it  must  be  a  sur 
prise  to  them,  for,  as  Sieber  said:  "If  we  try  to  surprise 
them  and  they  surprise  us,  we  are  gone  fawn  skins." 

Sieber  took  Micky  and  me  about  9  o'clock  in  the 
morning  and  we  went  on  to  try  to  locate  the  Indians. 
Wre  felt  sure  they  were  camped  at  the  Sierra  Media. 

This  Sierra  Media  means  "Middle  Mountain,"  and  is 
a  very  rough,  small  mountain  in  the  middle  of  the  Janos 
plains. 

On  the  west  side  of  this  mountain  was  a  fine,  big 
spring.  At  that  time  of  year  there  was  bound  to  be  lots 
of  water  there  and  it  took  lots  of  water  for  that  bunch  of 
Indians  when  they  wrere  all  together.  There  we  felt  sure 
the  Indians  would  camp  to  rest  up,  for  they  were  tired, 
and  their  stock  was  all  tired,  and  the  place  was  inside 
of  the  Mexican  line,  about  twenty  miles.  The  Indians 
knew  we  dared  not  cross  the  line,  so  they  would  feel 
perfectly  safe,  but  it  was  necessary  to  use  a  great  deal 
of  caution  in  attacking  them,  for  if  we  made  a  mistake 
they  would  kill  all  of  us. 


82  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  : 

When  we  got  within  six  or  seven  miles  of  the  place 
where  we  thought  they  would  be,  we  went  up  on  a  big 
hill  and,  Sieber  took  out  a  telescope  he  had  borrowed  from 
Tupper,  and  as  it  was  a  long  concern,  two  or  three  feet 
long,  we  built  up  a  pile  of  rocks  and  threw  some  limbs 
on  them  to  disguise  the  rocks.  Then  we  strung  out  that 
old  telescope  and  focused  it  on  the  point  of  the  Sierra 
Media  where  the  water  was.  We  had  to  build  this  rest 
for  the  telescope  so  we  could  steady  it  to  see  well.  Sieber 
lay  down  and  looked  a  long  time;  then  told  me  to  take  a 
look.  I  did  so,  and  there  were  the  Indians  and  horses  as 
natural  as  could  be. 

"Now,"  said  Sieber,  "all  we've  got  to  do  is  to  'ketch 


A   VINDICATION.  83 


CHAPTER  IX. 


A  Daylight  Surprise — "And  the  Fight  Was  On"— Horn 
Saves  Sergeant  Murray  Under  a  Hot  Fire — Casualties 
and  Booty — Colonel  Forsythe  and  Re-enforcements — 
Indians  Clash  With  Fifth  Mexican  Regiment,  Chi 
huahua  Cavalry,  167  Killed,  52  Captured— Forsythe 
Versus  Garcia — Horn  Interprets — Armed  Force  of 
Americans  on  Mexican  Territory — Under  Arrest. 
The  Surprising  Behavior  of  the  Arrested — Sieher's 
"General  Big  Kick"  to  Department  Commander. 


This  was  about  noon,  and  Sieber  told  me  to  go  back 
to  the  command  and  move  them  up  to  the  place  where  we 
were;  that  we  would  likely  get  there  by  sundown  or  be 
fore,  and  to  wait  there  till  he  came,  as  he  said  he  and 
Micky  would  go  into  the  camp  before  he  came  back.  He 
gave  me  more  details,  and  cautions,  not  to  shoot  or  make 
a  fire,  but  to  camp  as  soon  as  I  got  the  soldiers  up  to  this 
point. 

I  went  back  and  reported  to  Tupper,  gave  him  Sieber's 
instructions,  and  we  pulled  out  for  the  place  where  we 
were  to  meet  Sieber.  Major  Tupper  was  "tickled"  to  get 
a  chance  to  get  at  them,  as  he  said,  he  wanted  anyhow  to 
have  a  scrap  of  some  kind  and  to  capture  a  pony  for  his 
little  girl. 

We  got  to  the  appointed  place  quite  a  while  before 
sundown,  and  camped,  fed  the  stock,  and  prepared  to 


84  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

make  battle.  The  only  question  was,  would  the  hostiles 
move  camp  again  that  night?  Sieber  felt  sure  they  would 
not,  as  they  were  tired  and  as  they  thought,  free  from 
pursuit. 

It  was  close  to  midnight  when  Sieber  got  back  to 
where  we  were.  He  said  he  left  the  hostile  camp  about 
10  o'clock  and  that  they  were  singing  and  dancing,  and 
Micky  told  me  he  heard  the  wedding  drums  beating  and 
could  plainly  hear  the  chants  they  sing  at  weddings. 
Sieber  said  Micky  wanted  to  get  a  few  ponies  and  bring 
back  to  Tupper,  as  he  seemed  to  want  ponies  worse  than 
anything  else.  While  Sieber  and  Micky  got  something 
to  eat,  I  got  their  change  of  horses.  We  left  six  soldiers 
with  the  pack  train,  which  remained  there,  and  we 
started  out  for  the  hostile  camp. 

We  went  up  a  swale  that  ran  close  to  the  camp  and  had 
to  wait  a  good  while  for  daylight  to  come.  We  were  with 
in  less  than  a  thousand  yards  of  the  camp,  but  they  had 
so  many  horses  running  around  that  they  had  not  heard 
us. 

Sieber,  Micky,  Sage  and  I  all  knew  every  foot  of  the 
land,  and  we  were  each  put  to  pilot  some  soldiers  for  a 
charge  when  we  should  be  discovered  at  daylight.  There 
were  nine  soldiers  in  the  bunch  I  had  to  guide.  Micky 
Free  was  assigned  to  go  with  Major  Tupper.  Tupper  was 
spoiling  for  a  fight,  and  any  one  that  went  where  Micky 
would  go  in  a  scrimmage,  was  bound  to  see  the  biggest 
part  of  it. 

Just  at  daylight  five  Broncos  came  close  up  to 
where  Sage  and  his  squad  were  waiting.  They  saw  the 
soldiers  as  soon  as  the  soldiers  saw  them, — and  the  fight 
was  on. 


A    VINDICATION.  85 

The  soldiers  with  Sage  made  a  run  at  those  five  In 
dians,  and  got  every  one  of  them,  and  they  were  the  only 
Indians  killed,  that  is,  that  we  were  sure  of. 

The  sergeant  with  Sage  told  me  Sage  killed  three 
out  of  the  five  with  his  six  shooter,  as  they  ran.  Sage 
rode  his  big,  white  war  horse,  and  he  could  run  right 
over  the  Indians.  These  five  Indians  were  on  horseback 
and  were  just  starting  out,  evidently  to  round  in  their 
loose  horses. 

As  for  my  part  of  the  fight,  I  did  not  get  to  see  much 
of  it.  Murray,  a  sergeant,  was  in  charge  of  the  bunch  of 
soldiers  I  was  guiding,  and  as  wre  charged  toward  the 
camp  wre  saw  about  a  dozen  Indians  in  a  little  bunch  of 
rocks,  and  we  took  a  run  at  them.  When  we  got  up 
close  to  the  rocks,  we  wrere  not  forty  yards  from  them 
when  we  saw  them.  Old  Murray  got  a  shot  in  the  side, 
gave  a  big  grunt  and  fell  off  his  horse.  I  looked  around 
and  saw  him  get  partly  up  so  I  stopped  (for  we  were  go 
ing  at  a  run),  went  back  and  got  off.  I  could  see  that  he 
looked  awfully  white.  He  said  he  was  shot  in  the  side. 
His  horse  had  gone  on  with  the  rest  of  the  men  in  our 
squad,  and  I  tried  to  get  him  on  my  horse,  and  I  finally 
succeeded,  but  when  I  tried  to  start,  I  saw  the  horse  had 
a  hind  leg  broke. 

The  Indians  were  firing  terribly  fast  at  us,  so  I  pulled 
old  Murray  off  the  horse,  took  him  on  my  back  and  car 
ried  him  about  forty  yards,  then  I  gave  out  and  had  to  put 
him  down.  Both  of  us  had  dropped  our  rifles,  and  he 
told  me  to  go  "back  and  get  them.  My  horse  was  still 
standing  there,  both  rifles  lying  on  the  ground;  but  the 
Indians  that  were  in  that  little  bunch  of  rocks  had  un 
doubtedly  gone,  as  they  did  not  shoot  at  me  any  more. 


86  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  : 

I  went  back  to  Murray.  He  was  sitting  up  swearing, 
and  he  said  he  felt  better.  "But  listen,"  said  he,  "to  that 
damned  racket." 

Well,  there  were  "things  doin'  "  all  right  just  then. 
Indians  were  yelling  and  squaws  were  yelling.  There 
must  have  been  a  thousand  dogs  barking,  and  horses 
were  running  every  which  way.  There  were  probably 
three  thousand  horses  there,  and  it  was  not  very  light 
yet.  The  soldiers  had  been  ordered  previously  to  get  all 
the  horses  they  could,  but  the  horses  would  not  leave 
the  Indian  camp,  and  the  soldiers  could  not  drive  them 
away.  At  sunup  we  heard  the  bugler  with  Tupper 
sounding  "Assembly,"  and  as  Murray  could  walk  pretty 
well  by  this  time,  I  headed  off  towards  where  I  heard 
the  bugle. 

There  we  found  all  the  command  except  one  soldier 
who  had  been  killed.  Micky  and  several  of  the  soldiers 
had  a  big  bunch  of  horses  and  mules.  Tupper  sent  sev 
eral  soldiers  to  get  the  dead  man,  and  we  pulled  still 
farther  away  from  where  the  hostiles  had  taken  shelter 
in  the  rocks.  After  a  little  we  stopped  on  a  slight  rise 
and  waited  for  the  men  to  come  up  with  the  dead  soldier. 
When  they  came  we  laid  him  in  a  gulch,  put  a  Govern 
ment  blanket  over  him  and  piled  rocks  on  the  blanket. 
We  put  Murray  on  behind  another  soldier,  Micky  roped 
a  horse  for  me  out  of  the  bunch  they  were  holding,  and 
we  started  back  to  our  camp.  The  hostiles  afterwards 
told  me  they  thought  there  was  a  big  bunch  of  soldiers 
concealed  somewhere  close,  and  that  we  were  just  trying 
to  draw  them  out.  It  was  lucky  for  us  that  they  did 
think  so,  for  they  could  have  come  out  and  cleaned  us 
up  in  a  minute. 


A   VINDICATION.  87 

We  had  a  big  lot  of  horses,  and  I  think  there  were 
eight  different  ones  had  saddles  on  them.  We  caught 
a  big  pinto  mule  with  a  saddle  on,  and  I  took  that  saddle 
and  the  horse  Micky  had  roped  for  me  as  my  share  of 
the  booty.  Tupper  took  all  the  ponies  himself;  I  think 
we  counted  260  at  that  time.  When  we  got  back  to 
the  pack  train  and  had  something  to  eat,  Major  Tupper 
was  the  happiest  man  I  ever  saw. 

About  an  hour  before  sundown  Murray  and  I  saw  a 
dust  up  towards  the  line  and  we  thought  it  might  be 
more  Indians  coming,  but  we  soon  saw  they  were  fol 
lowing  the  trail  of  our  cavalry,  and  we  decided  they 
must  be  soldiers,  which  they  proved  to  be.  It  was  a 
colonel  named  Forsythe,  and  his  scouts  had  assured  him 
that  there  were  troops  ahead  of  him,  so  he  came  on  and 
went  into  camp  where  we  were  located.  There  were 
five  troops  in  this  command,  and  there  were  now  men 
enough  to  make  a  good  fight.  It  was  the  first  time  since 
the  outbreak,  ten  days  before,  that  we  had  seen  soldiers 
enough  at  one  time  to  make  a  good  fight.  Of  course,  our 
outfit  was  pretty  well  worn  out,  having  been  up  all  the 
previous  night.  Forsythe  was  not  in  very  good  shape 
himself,  but  the  sight  of  the  captured  ponies  made  him 
want  some  ponies  of  his  own. 

Forsythe  sent  for  Sieber,  and  asked  him  if  we  could 
get  him  up  to  where  he  could  get  a  lick  at  the  Indians 
and  get  a  few  ponies.  Sieber  said  he  could,  if  we  would 
go  promptly.  Then  Sieber  told  him  we  would  have  to 
pull  out  at  once.  Sieber  thereupon  told  Micky,  two  of 
the  Apache  scouts  and  myself  to  go  back  to  the  hostile 
camp,  and  if  they  had  gone,  or  were  getting  ready  to  go, 
to  send  back  the  two  Apache  scouts  to  a  place  named  by 


88  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

him,  and  that  he  would  meet  them  with  the  soldiers. 
Micky  and  I  were  to  keep  on  after  the  hostiles  and  join 
him  and  the  command  at  a  place  called  Panuela.  Sieber 
said  if  he  got  there  first  he  would  wait  for  us,  and  if 
we  got  there  first  to  wait  for  him. 

When  Micky  and  I  got  back  to  the  Sierra  Media, 
where  we  had  left  the  hostiles  by  the  hundred  in  the 
morning,  we  found  it  as  still  as  a  graveyard.  We  looked 
around  and  found  a  trail,  and  it  headed  direct  for  the 
Panuela,  and  we  sent  the  two  Apaches  back  to  Sieber. 
It  was  10  o'clock  at  night,  but  there  were  so  many  of 
the  Indians  they  made  a  trail  that  even  at  night  could 
be  followed  as  easily  as  can  Capitol  Avenue  in  Cheyenne. 

At  the  Panuela  were  two  or  three  horses  dropped  by 
the  hostiles.  Micky  and  I  had  just  reached  this  water 
and  got  a  drink  when  we  heard  the  troops  coming,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  they  arrived.  We  told  Sieber  we  were 
on  the  trail.  Forsythe  was  keen  to  keep  on,  and  as  it 
was  about  1  o'clock  at  night  we  had  to  travel  pretty 
lively  to  get  across  the  plains  before  sunup. 

We  traveled  on  till  just  about  daylight,  and  then 
left  the  Indian  trail  and  turned  into  the  hills  at  a  place 
called  Sousita.  The  soldiers  and  their  mounts  were 
all  completely  worn  out,  and  Forsythe  ordered  camp. 
-  While  the  soldiers  were  going  into  camp  we  scouts 
went  up  to  the  top  of  a  peak  near  there,  so  we  could  look 
ahead.  At  sunup  we  could  plainly  see  the  dust  of  the 
hostiles,  not  more  than  eight  or  ten  miles  ahead  of  us, 
and  instead  of  going  towards  the  Ojitas,  as  we  had  sup 
posed  they  would,  they  were  pulling  into  the  Carretas 
Canon. 


A    VINDICATION.  89 

While  we  were  watching  this  dust,  the  sound  of 
rifles  was  heard  by  all  of  us,  and  by  the  troops  going  into 
camp,  also,  and  a  great  cloud  of  dust  came  up  where 
the  Indians  were.  We  could  not  for  a  while  understand 
what  it  meant.  Finally  we  concluded  the  Indians  had 
run  into  the  Mexican  troops  and  were  fighting.  We 
could  not  see  anything  but  dust  and  smoke. 

After  we  had  eaten  breakfast,  Forsythe  was  so  anx 
ious  to  know  what  the  row  was  where  we  could  hear  the 
firing,  we  again  pulled  out  for  Carretas  to  learn  the  exact 
cause  of  the  trouble.  About  two  hours'  march  brought 
us  to  the  place,  and,  sure  enough,  it  was  the  Fifth  Regi 
ment  of  .  Chihuahua  Cavalry,  under  Colonel  Garcia. 
They  were  just  returning  from  Sonora,  where  they  had 
been  fighting  all  winter  with  the  Yaquis,  and  had  been 
camped  on  Carretas  Creek  that  night,  and  on  this  morn 
ing  the  guards  reported  a  big  dust  coming  across  the 
plains  headed  for  the  point  where  the  regiment  was 
camped. 

Colonel  Garcia  was  an  old  Indian  fighter,  and  knew 
in  a  minute  that  it  was  Indians.  They  were  still  a  couple 
of  miles  away,  and  coming  up  parallel  with  where  the 
Carretas  Creek  runs  out  and  sinks  into  the  plain.  Gar 
cia  threw  his  men  out  down  this  creek,  and  concealed  in 
the  brush  on  the  creek  and  under  the  creek  banks.  He 
let  all  the  bucks,  who  were  mostly  in  the  lead,  pass  on, 
then  he  struck  the  rear  of  the  Indian  column.  The  rear 
of  the  Indians  consisted  principally  of  squaws  and  chil 
dren,  and  any  loose  horses  there  might  have  been.  Gar 
cia  slew  them  all — women  and  children.  One  hundred 
and  sixty-seven  were  killed  and  all  dragged  close  to 
gether  by  the  time  wre  got  there.  They  were  killed  all 


90  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  : 

around  over  the  country  for  a  distance  of  about  a  mile 
square,  but  Garcia  had  dragged  all  of  them  together. 
There  were  also  fifty-two  women  and  children  captives. 

Garcia's  command  saw  us  coming  when  we  were 
within  half  a  mile  of  them.  They  did  not  know  what  to 
make  of  us  at  first,  and  then  they  recognized  us  as  Ameri 
can  troops.  Colonel  Garcia  and  about  a  dozen  of  his 
officers  came  to  meet  us,  and  his  orderly  was  blowing  his 
bugle  for  all  he  was  worth. 

Forsythe  halted  his  command,  and  several  of  his  of 
ficers  and  all  the  scouts  went  forward  to  meet  the  Mexi 
cans.  When  we  got  within  one  hundred  yards  of  them, 
they  halted;  we  rode  up  to  them  and  civilties  were  ex 
changed.  Colonel  Garcia  did  not  have  any  one  who  could 
speak  English  and  I  was  put  in  to  do  the  interpreting. 

Colonel  Garcia  immediately  told  Colonel  Forsythe 
that  we  were  an  armed  force  of  Americans  on  Mexican 
t  territory  and  that  we  must  consider  ourselves  under  ar 
rest.  He  said  he  was  Justo  Garcia,  Colonel  of  the  Fifth 
Chihuahua  Cavalry,  and  asked  Colonel  Forsythe  who  he 
was.  Forsythe  told  him  who  we  were  and  that  we  were 
following  the  Indians  whom  he,  Garcia,  had  just  engaged. 
We  saw  the  pile  of  dead  Indians  and  Garcia  told  us  of 
the  prisoners. 

Colonel  Forsythe  was  then  informed  that  his  com 
mand  would  be  allowed  to  retain  their  arms  for  the 
present,  and  he  and  several  of  his  officers  were  invited 
to  go  further  up  the  creek  where  there  was  good  water, 
and  have  breakfast  with  Colonel  Garcia.  Forsythe  ac 
cepted  the  invitation.  We  all  went  further  up  the  creek 
and  made  camp.  Garcia  and  his  command  had  not  had 
breakfast,  as  the  Indians  came  onto  them  too  early  in 


A   VINDICATION.  91 

the  morning  to  allow  them  time  to  get  breakfast.  That 
regiment  of  Garcia's,  which  he  said  was  one  of  the  best 
in  the  Mexican  Army,  had  twelve  burros  for  their  trans 
portation.  They  had  no  grub  and  no  clothes,  and  many 
of  them  did  not  have  a  cartridge  after  their  fight  with  the 
Indians. 

Colonel  Forsythe  had  five  troops  of  cavalry  and  there 
were  about  thirty  of  us  scouts,  Indian  and  white  to 
gether,  and  he  had  about  fifty  pack  mules  loaded  with 
grub  and  ammunition.  Forsythe  soon  saw  that  break 
fast  with  Garcia  was  nothing  at  all,  so  he  asked  Garcia 
to  have  breakfast  with  him,  which  he  did.  After  break 
fast,  which  wras  about  10:00  o'clock  in  the  morning,  Gar 
cia  told  Colonel  Forsythe  that  he  would  have  to  go  to 
El  Valle,  the  head  of  the  district  and  would  have  to  re 
main  a  prisoner  till  such  an  invasion  could  be  settled  by 
their  respective  governments. 

Garcia  asked  Forsythe  to  be  his  guest  during  the  time 
he  would  be  detained,  and  said  he  hoped  there  would  be 
no  hard  feeling  between  them.  Garcia  said  he  would 
have  to  dismount  Forsythe's  troops  and  confiscate  the 
rations,  and  was  going  on  at  that  rate  when  Forsythe 
interrupted  him  and  said: 

"I  know  I  am  violating  an  international  agreement 
and  I  knew  what  I  was  doing  when  I  came  in  here,  and 
I  know  what  I  am  going  to  do  now.  I  am  going  to  mount 
my  command  and  go  back  as  I  came  down  here,  and  that 
was  without  order  or  command.  I  will  not  submit  to  go 
anywhere  with  you  and  your  command.  I  will  now  bid 
you  good  day." 

Forsythe  ordered  the  troops  to  get  ready  for  a  row  if 
it  was  necessary  to  have  a  row;  he  ordered  the  packers  to 


92  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

pack  up,  which  they  did  in  a  very  few  minutes,  and  we 
mounted  and  pulled  back  toward  the  United  States  line. 

Garcia  did  not  attempt  to  stop  us  or  to  interfere  at  all. 
He  had  given  the  Indians  a  very  severe  blow.  While  he 
had  killed  only  women  and  children,  he  had  captured 
more  than  four  hundred  horses,  and  the  Indians  would 
not  learn  for  a  long  time  that  it  was  an  accident  or  a 
scratch  that  we  ran  them  into  the  arms  of  the  Mexicans. 

This  was  the  thirteenth  day  since  the  outbreak  at  San 
Carlos.  Sieber,  Micky  and  I  returned  to  San  Carlos  and 
the  remainder  of  the  troops  went  to  their  respective 
posts. 

Sieber,  as  chief  of  scouts,  had  to  make  a  written  report 
of  the  whole  trip  to  the  Department  Commander,  and  in 
that  report  he  said  that  from  the  time  the  Indians  broke 
out  at  San  Carlos  and  killed  Chief  of  Police  Stirling,  till 
wre  quit  them  on  Carretas  Creek  in  the  State  of  Chihua 
hua,  Mexico,  that  the  scouts  had  been  constantly  on  the 
flank  of  the  hostiles,  assisting  and  ready  to  give  correct 
information  to  any  one  of  the  different  troop  command 
ers  wre  came  in  contact  with.  He  then  gave  the  details 
very  much  as  I  have  discribed  them.  He  made  a  "general 
big  kick"  against  the  idea  of  sending  detachments  of 
from  twenty  men  to  forty  men  to  chastise  a  bunch  of  from 
260  to  320  Chiricahua  braves.  He  also  got  in  a  roar 
about  the  transportation  and  poor  condition  of  the  field 
organization  and  the  lack  of  available  troops  for  a  pur 
suit  such  as  we  had  just  been  on.  He  said,  also,  he  had 
again  employed  me  on  his  own  responsibility  and  wanted 
me  kept  on  regular;  ajso  predicted  a  big,  general  row  all 
over  the  Reservation  and  on  the  Mexico  line.  He  said 
that  on  our  recent  raid  we  had  engaged  the  Indians  three 


A    VINDICATION.  93 

different  times  and  all  the  Indians  killed  were  five  killed 
by  a  bunch  of  nine  soldiers  and  one  scout.  Spoke  also 
of  the  number  of  captured  horses. 

The  Department  Commander  sent  this  report  on  to 
the  Secretary  of  War.  He  notified  Sieber  in  a  personal 
letter  what  he  had  done,  and  said  he  could  do  no  more, 
as  there  was  not  sufficient  money  appropriated  with 
which  to  do  anything. 


94  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  I 


CHAPTER  X. 

Sieber,  Horn  and  Micky  Free  Visit  the  White  Mountain 
Indians — Old  Pedro's  Advice  and  Prophecy — The 
Three  Scouts  Report  for  Orders  at  Camp  Apache — 
"This  Is  a  Trap,  Men  Will  Leave  This  Post  Who  Will 
Never  Return  Alive.  But  We  Must  Make  the  Bluff." 
— A  Perilous  Journey — Betrayed  By  Dead  Shot  and 
Dandy  Jim — Ambush  at  Cibicu  Canon — Loss  of 
Leader;  Eleven  Wounded;  Deserted  by  Indian  Scouts 
— Horn  Saves  the  Command. 


We  stayed  at  San  Carlos  a  while  till  I  could  get  my 
affairs  straightened  out  with  the  beef  contractors,  then 
we  all  went  up  into  the  White  Mountain  country.  By 
"all,"  I  mean  Sieber,  Micky  Free  and  myself. 

Old  Pedro,  my  friend,  was  very  glad  to  see  all  of  us, 
and  the  first  night  I  got  to  his  camp  he  kept  me  up  all 
night  long,  telling  him  of  the  Chiricahua  outbreak  and 
raid.  He  made  me  go  over  the  story  again  about  how  the 
Chiricahuas  ran  into  the  Mexican  troops.  He  asked  all  the 
details  of  the  raid  and  the  exact  route  taken  by  each  band 
of  Indians  after  they  parted  and  broke  up  into  smaller 
bands.  Of  course  he  knew  all  the  hostiles  well,  and  as  I 
would  describe  certain  parts  of  the  raid,  the  old  chief 
would  say:  "Yes,  that  was  Natchez,"  or  "That  was  Chi- 
hauhau,"  or  "That  was  old  Loco,  himself," 


A   VINDICATION.  95 

After  I  had  told  him  the  whole  story  it  was  daylight 
and  Sieber  had  got  up  and  come  to  the  fire  where  we  were 
sitting,  and  then  the  old  chief  showed  his  wisdom. 

"Sibi,"  said  Chief  Pedro,  "this  Talking  Boy'  and  I 
have  been  up  here  all  night  talking  of  this  raid  of  the 
Chiricahuas.  This  boy  has  told  me  the  whole  and  I  am 
sadly  disappointed  in  one  thing.  I  can't  see  the  work 
of  that  chief  of  all  devils,  called  Geronimo.  He  was  not 
in  the  raid.  Where  was  he?  Things  are  bad  now,  but 
they  would  have  been  far  worse  had  he  been  there." 

Afterwards  we  learned  sure  enough  that  during  this 
raid  Geronimo  had  been  laid  up  with  a  shot  through  the 
shoulder.  Chief  Pedro  could  tell  them  all  by  their 
actions  as  described  by  me.  He  said  he  was  very  tired, 
as  he  was  not  used  to  being  up  all  night,  and  for  us  to 
make  ourselves  at  home  and  not  to  leave,  as  he  wanted  to 
talk  to  Sieber  and  me,  both,  on  the  following  night.  We 
did  not  calculate  to  go  away  anyhow,  so  we  did  as  he 
said. 

That  night  Pedro  sent  for  Sieber  and  me  about  10 
o'clock,  and  we  again  talked  nearly  all  night  about 
troubles  we  were  going  to  have  on  Cibicu  territory,  or 
with  the  Cibicu  Indians.  Pedro  told  us  they  were  all  bad 
and  that  they  were  making  lots  of  trouble  for  Indians 
who  were  actually  trying  to  be  good  and  peaceful.  Sieber 
asked  the  old  warrior  what  could  be  done. 

"I  will  give  you  150  warriors,  all  good,  picked  men," 
said  Pedro,  "and  you  can  go  over  there  and  kill  a  good 
many  of  them,  and  then  come  back  and  rest  up  a  while, 
then  go  back  and  kill  some  more,  and  keep  that  up  the 
rest  of  the  summer.  By  winter  time  there  will  still 


9G  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

be  trouble,  but  there  will  not  be  so  many  mean  Indians 
to  help  out  with  it." 

Sieber  explained  to  the  old  man  that  we  could  not 
do  that.  Sieber  asked  me  in  English,  so  Pedro  could 
not  understand,  if  I  thought  it  would  do  to  tell  Pedro 
how  things  stood  in  the  Department,  and  how  poorly 
equipped  wre  were  for  a  big  Indian  war,  such  as  we 
thought  there  was  going  to  be. 

"I  know  what  you  think,  and  maybe  it  was  what  you 
were  saying,"  said  Pedro,  "and  that  is,  that  your  soldiers 
are  not  prepared  for  so  much  war  as  you  both  know 
there  is  going  to  be.  Both  of  you  are  well  acquainted 
with  both  soldiers  and  renegade  Indians,  and  you  know 
that  while  your  white  soldiers  are  without  fear,  they 
can  never  meet  the  Apaches  in  battle  where  the  white 
soldier  will  have  a  chance.  Brave  though  your  soldiers 
may  be,  you  must  remember  that  while  the  Indians  are 
renegades  and  outlaws,  they  also  are  brave  as  any,  and 
perfectly  well  acquainted  with  all  the  country,  and  can 
live  like  the  wolf  and  evade  the  white  soldier,  who  has 
never  had  such  training  as  the  Indians.  A  mad  man, 
though  his  will  be  ever  so  good,  can  not  overtake,  in  the 
mountains,  a  bad  man  who  is  trying  to  get  away.  I  am 
an  old  man,  now;  I  am  very  old,  and  am  a  chief.  I  have 
fought  the  white  soldiers  many  a  time,  and  I  know  just 
how  they  act  in  battle  and  on  the  trail,  and  I  am  better 
able  to  give  you  truth  than  any  other  man  you  can  find, 
be  he  white  or  red.  I  can  not  read  in  books,  and  I  can 
not  write  on  paper,  but  I  can  look  at  the  forest,  and  the 
mountains,  and  on  the  ground,  and  I  can  read  every 
sign  there.  I  can  look  at  the  action  of  a  bad  Indian,  and 
can  tell  how  he  feels  and  what  he  will  do.  Sibi,  you 


A   VINDICATION.  97 

are  a  great  hunter.  You  know  what  kind  of  a  place  to 
go  to  for  deer  and  turkey.  When  you  see  a  band  of 
deer  or  turkey  you  know  what  they  will  do  and  how 
they  will  act.  I  am  an  old,  broken  down  warrior,  and 
many  years  of  my  life  have  been  spent  at  war  with 
Americans  and  Mexicans,  and  I  know  them  as  you  know 
them,  and  as  you  know  the  deer  and  turkey;  and  now  I 
am  going  to  tell  you  what  you  know  well,  and  you  may 
think"  I  am  a  fool  to  tell  you,  but  there  is  going  to  be  a 
great  lot  of  war,  of  which  this  last  outbreak  is  the  starter, 
and  it  will  continue  for  many  years.  Apache  soldiers  you 
will  have  to  use,  for,  as  brave  as  your  white  soldiers  are, 
they  can  not  endure  the  hardships  necessary  to  over 
come  the  bad  Apaches. 

"Those  Cibicu  Indians  will  break  out  soon  and  they 
will  have  to  go  north  to  the  Mogollons,  as  they  are  not 
Mexico  Indians.  So  it  will  be  war  on  the  south  from  the 
Chiricahuas,  and  war  in  the  north  from  the  Cibicus,  and 
many  and  many  a  white  settler  and  traveler  will  be 
killed.  Take  my  advice  and  my  warriors  and  go  at  it 
at  once.  Now,  good  night,  and  think  this  over,  and  re 
member  it  is  I,  Pedro,  a  wise  chief,  who  tells  you  this; 
remember,  also,  that  I  never  talk  two  ways." 

After  Pedro  had  gone  to  bed  Sieber  said  to  me: 

"Tom,  that  is  exactly  what  you  and  I  have  said  all 
the  time,  and  it  would  be  a  great  thing  for  the  settlers 
of  this  territory  if  we  could  take  the  old  man's  advice 
and  his  warriors  and  go  at  these  bad  Indians;  but  the 
Government  would  never  tolerate  such  a  thing,  and  all 
we  can  do  is  to  do  as  we  are  told." 

In  a  few  days  we  went  on  to  Camp  Apache,  and  Sie 
ber  reported  to  the  commanding  officer  there,  as  was  his 

4 


98  LIFE  OF   TOM   HORN: 

custom  when  he  went  into  a  Government  post.  The  com 
manding  officer  told  him  to  come  to  the  adjutant's  office 
the  next  morning,  as  he  wanted  to  have  a  talk  with  him. 

The  next  morning  Sieber  and  I  went  to  the  adjutant's 
office  at  9  o'clock,  and  I  was  ordered  out,  as  the  adjutant 
said  he  had  no  business  with  me.  Seiber  told  him  I  was 
the  interpreter,  and  it  would  be  necessary  for  me  to 
know  of  anything  that  was  going  to  be  done. 

"My  business,"  said  the  adjutant,  "is  not  with  an  in 
terpreter;  it  is  with  you,  who  are  the  chief  of  scouts." 

I  was  turned  out,  and  went  and  sat  down  and  waited 
for  Sieber  to  get  through.  When  Sieber  came  out  he 
looked  so  grave  and  solemn  that  I  did  not  speak  to  him 
till  he  spoke  to  me.  At  last,  when  we  got  to  our  camp 
and  sat  down,  he  sent  an  Indian  woman  to  find  Micky, 
so  we  could  talk.  Then  Sieber,  Micky  and  I  held  a  war 
council.  Sieber  had  to  talk  in  Spanish  so  that  Micky 
could  understand,  and  then  he  told  us  what  we  had  to  do. 

"I  am  ordered,"  said  Sieber,  "to  take  you  two  boys 
and  go  with  a  detachment  of  soldiers  to  Canon  Creek, 
and  from  there  to  Cibicu,  and  see  these  Indians  and 
arrest  five  of  them  who  are  making  all  of  this  trouble, 
as  the  adjutant  says,  and  we  are  to  take  a  lot  of  those 
same  Indians  with  us  to  show  us  who  these  Indians  are. 
We  are  to  arrest  them  and  confine  them  here  in  the  guard 
house." 

Sieber  then  named  several  Apache  scouts  who  were 
attached  to  the  fort,  and  said  we  would  go  with  them. 

"Dead  Shot  and  Dandy  Jim  are  both  sergeants  of  the 
scouts,"  he  continued,  "and  they  will  show  us  the  men 
we  are  to  arrest.  There  will  be  a  detachment  of  about 


A   VINDICATION.  99 

twenty  men  to  go  with  us.  Now,  those  are  my  instruc 
tions." 

We  were  all  paralyzed  by  such  an  order,  for  this  rea 
son:  Dead  Shot  and  Dandy  Jim  were  two  of  the  worst 
of  all  the  bad  men,  and  they  were  capable  of  doing  any 
thing  bad  and  nothing  good.  They  were  both  Cibicu  In 
dians,  and  entirely  in  sympathy  with  anything  the  bad 
Indians  on  Cibicu  wanted  to  do.  Sieber,  as  Chief  of 
Scouts,  had  made  a  strong  protest  against  enlisting  these 
two  at  the  time  they  were  enlisted,  as  he  knew  them  well, 
and  knew  their  reputation  with  the  other  Indians.  They 
both,  also,  had  considerable  influence  with  all  bad  and 
turbulent  Indians,  and  were  sworn  enemies  of  Sieber  and 
Micky;  but  as  for  myself,  I  knew  them  by  reputation 
only. 

"There  will  be  men  leave  this  post  in  the  morning 
who  will  either  be  brought  back  dead,  or  else  will  be  left 
dead  in  the  mountains,"  said  Micky,  "for  this  is  a  trap 
that  we  are  going  into,  and  they  will  try  hardest  to  kill 
us  three,  for  they  think  we  have  no  business  to  come  up 
here  and  interfere  with  them.  A  rabbit  trap  will  catch 
a  wolf,  but  it  won't  hold  him,"  added  Micky;  "so  we  will 
just  act  as  though  we  suspected  nothing.  We  won't  be 
able  to  find  the  Indians  that  we  are  going  after,  but  we 
must  make  the  bluff." 

Micky  suggested  that  after  we  got  started  he  would 
look  after  Dead  Shot,  and  for  me  to  look  after  Dandy 
Jim;  "and,"  said  Micky,  "we  will  civilize  them."  Sieber 
said  that  was  his  idea  exactly,  as  he  himself  would  have 
to  be  with  the  soldiers  all  the  time. 

Such  was  the  trip  we  started  on  the  next  morning. 
Luckily  for  the  soldiers,  there  were  about  thirty  men  of 


100  LIFE    OF    TOM    HOHN  : 

them,  but  Dead  Shot  had  told  the  adjutant  a  dozen 
would  be  enough.  "Those  Indians  are  not  bad,  and  are 
not  renegades,"  said  Dead  Shot;  "they  will  all  help  the 
soldiers  to  arrest  these  bad  men,  and  it  is  a  good  thing 
to  send  the  white  scouts,  for  they  tell  lies  on  all  of  us; 
and  when  they  see  how  things  are  out  there,  they  will 
have  nothing  to  say." 

At  Canon  Creek  we  camped  and  found  there  a  lot  of 
Indians.  Among  them  was  a  captive  (Mexican).  His 
name  was  Suneriano.  Suneriano  had  been  captured  by 
these  Indians  when  a  small  boy,  and  had  never  left  them. 
At  this  time  he  was  married ;  had  a  couple  of  women  and 
half  a  dozen  children. 

'Way  long  in  the  middle  of  the  night  one  of  his  kids, 
a  girl  about  nine  or  ten  years  old,  came  and  woke  me. 
She  crawled  down  beside  me,  or  rather  was  crouching 
there  when  she  woke  me.  She  told  me  she  was  sent  by 
her  father,  who  was  Suneriano,  to  tell  me  that  we  would 
all  be  killed  on  Cibicu  Creek;  that  there  was  a  trap  laid 
for  us,  and  that  Dead  Shot  was  going  to  lead  us  into  it. 
She  said  all  the  women  and  children  were  then  up  in  the 
mountains,  and  we  would  find  only  warriors.  "There  are 
about  sixty  of  the  men,"  she  said.  She  then  went  crawl 
ing  away  on  her  stomach  and  disappeared.  I  did  not 
sleep  any  more  that  night,  and  so  quietly  did  this  little 
girl  come  and  go  that  Micky,  who  slept  within  six  feet 
of  me,  did  not  hear  her. 

At  daylight  I  told  Sieber  what  this  child  had  told  me, 
and  he  in  turn  told  Captain  Hentig,  the  officer  in  com 
mand  of  the  escort.  Sieber  did  not  tell  Hentig  how  he 
got  the  information,  but  just  told  him  the  condition  of 
things  out  there.  Hentig  told  Sieber  that  if  he  was 


A  VINDICATION.  101 

afraid  he  could  take  his  two  men,  meaning  Micky  and 
me,  and  go  back  to  Camp  Apache.  Sieber  replied  no; 
that  we  would  go  along  to  pilot  the  scattered  soldiers 
back  to  Camp  Apache! 

About  noon  we  got  to  Cibicu  Creek,  and  Sieber  spoke 
to  me  and  told  me  to  wratch  my  man,  and  to  tell  Micky 
to  watch  his.  We  could  not  see  any  Indians  where  there 
should  have  been  lots  of  them  'camped,  and  Dead  Shot 
said  they  had  probably  moved  down  the  creek;  and  there 
it  was  that  he  came  to  understand  that  we  understood 
what  he  was  trying  to  do,  for  Micky  said  to  him:  "Dead 
Shot,  wre  are  onto  your  game,  and  I  am  going  to  stay 
close  to  you  all  the  time,  and  if  any  thing  goes  wrong 
you  will  be  stealing  moccasins  in  the  camp  of  the  Great 
Spirit  just  as  soon  as  the  fight  comes  off." 

(Dead  Shot  was  accused  by  the  squaws  of  having  once 
stolen  a  pair  of  moccasins  from  a  woman  of  Pedro's  band. 
This  is  the  lowest  crime  an  Apache  brave  can  commit.) 

Dead  Shot  saw  that  Dandy  Jim  was  in  about  the  same 
fix  that  he  himself  was.  He  appealed  to  Captain  Hentig, 
but  had  to  do  so  through  Sieber,  as  he  and  Hentig  could 
not  understand  each  other.  Hentig  ordered  us  to  leave 
them,  and  we  told  him  we  were  not  doing  as  Dead  Shot 
accused  us  of  doing.  Hentig  then  ordered  Micky  and  me 
to  get  behind,  which  we  did. 

Dead  Shot  wanted  to  go  down  the  canon,  but  Sieber 
swung  up  the  side  of  the  canon,  and  then  it  was  that  the 
Indians  in  ambush  opened  up  on  us,  for  they  saw  that 
Sieber  would  not  go  into  their  trap.  They  were  not  pre 
pared  for  such  a  move  as  we  made,  and  consequently  did 
not  do  a  great  deal  of  damage.  Dead  Shot  and  Dandy 
Jim  being  in  front  of  the  soldiers  while  Micky  and  I  were 


102  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

behind,  they  both  made  a  run  and  got  away  as  soon  as 
the  firing  started.  About  ten  minutes  after  the  fight 
started,  Captain  Hentig  was  killed.  There  were  eleven 
men  wounded  in  the  fight,  but  none  badly.  Our  Indian 
scouts  all  left  us.  There  were  five  of  them. 

We  saw  the  renegades  running  to  get  on  a  high  point 
directly  over  us,  and  Sieber  yelled  to  Micky  and  me  to 
get  up  there  first,  which  we  did.  We  beat  the  renegades 
to  the  top  by  about  forty  yards  and  this  saved  the  whole 
party.  Had  the  renegades  reached  this  point  we  never 
could  have  gotten  out  of  Cibicu  Canon.  This  point  was 
the  commanding  place,  and  five  soldiers  came  up  and 
helped  Micky  and  me  to  hold  it.  Sieber  got  Hentig's 
body  on  a  pack  mule,  and  when  we  were  all  ready  they 
came  up  out  of  the  canon. 

We  turned  off  the  trail  and  buried  Hentig  in  the  hills, 
and  then  started  to  make  our  way  back  to  Camp  Apache. 
WTe  had  to  leave  all  trails  and  stick  to  the  mountains, 
but  were  not  bothered  any  more,  for  it  got  dark  about  the 
time  we  started,  and  we  traveled  all  night,  daylight  find 
ing  us  at  Camp  Apache  minus  Captain  Hentig  and  our 
Indian  scouts. 


A  VINDICATION.  103 


CHAPTER  XL 


The  Fort  Fired  Upon,  "This  Means  War."— Horn  Sent 
to  White  Mountains  and  Returns  With  Sixty  of 
Pedro's  Picked  Braves — "Tom  Horn  and  His  War 
Dogs"  on  the  Renegades'  Trail — Indian  Atrocities — 
Chaffee,  Sieber  and  Kehoe  Join  the  Chase,  "Tired,  But 
Full  of  Fight."— At  Bay  in  Chevlon's  Canon— Block 
ing  the  Only  Exit — A  Deadly  Trap — Heavy  Storm 
Stops  Fight— "Major  Chaffee  Too  Wet  and  Cold  to 
Swear." — A  Bear  Story. 


Sieber  wanted  to  report  to  the  commanding  officer, 
but  before  he  could  find  him  and  report,  the  Indians  com 
menced  to  fire  on  the  Fort.  They  commenced  about  sun 
up,  and  kept  up  their  firing  for  about  an  hour.  There 
were  not  more  than  one  hundred  of  them,  and  the  nearest 
of  them  were  three  hundred  yards  away.  They  did  not 
hit  anything  except  a  pony  belonging  to  one  of  the  chil 
dren  in  the  Fort.  The  pony  was  in  a  small  shed,  and  the 
bullet  passed  through  the  shed.  In  about  an  hour  the 
soldiers  were  ordered  to  go  up  on  the  hills  and  drive  the 
Indians  away,  which  they  did. 

This  meant  war.  Until  this  time  the  Indians  were  al 
lowed  to  do  as  they  pleased.  Now  telegrams  were  sent 
to  Camp  Thomas,  Camp  Grant,  Camp  McDowell  and 
Camp  Verde,  in  response  to  which  troops  began  to  come 
in  after  a  couple  of  days. 


104  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

Two  hours  after  the  renegades  had  been  driven  off  the 
hills  I  was  sent  to  Pedro's  camp,  about  twenty  miles 
away,  and  by  10:00  o'clock  that  night  I  was  back  at 
Camp  Apache  with  sixty  volunters  from  Pedro,  and  they 
did  sure  look  "fighty."  All  of  them  had  rifles  of  their 
own,  but  that  night  I  made  all  of  them  put  their  own 
guns  in  the  Government  storehouse,  and  gave  each  of 
them  a  Springfield  carbine  and  belt  and  all  the  ammu 
nition  they  wanted.  My  object  in  this  was  to  have  them 
all  armed  with  guns  that  used  Government  ammunition. 
Their  own  guns  were  good,  but  shot  all  kinds  of  ammu 
nition. 

The  second  day,  Colonel  Eugene  A.  Carr  came  in  from 
Camp  Thomas  with  two  troops  of  cavalry.  He  was  the 
first  to  arrive,  and  he,  as  ranking  officer,  took  command. 
Lots  of  the  Indians  from  both  Cibicu  and  Canon  Creek 
were  coming  in.  They  camped  close  to  the  Post  and  said 
they  did  not  want  to  be  classed  with  the  ones  who  had 
killed  Hentig  and  fired  on  the  Post.  Many  of  them  said 
that  while  they  lived  on  Cibicu,  they  were  under  the  in 
fluence  of  the  renegades,  who  lived  there,  and  that  they 
had  to  do  as  the  bad  ones  said. 

Well,  we  started  out  to  find  the  bad  Indians,  and  we 
knew  from  the  information  we  got  from  the  other  In 
dians  who  had  come  in  that  there  was  a  band  of  about 
sixty  of  the  turbulent  ones.  We  could  not  learn  any 
thing  from  the  rest  of  the  Indians  except  where  these 
sixty  Indians  were. 

"Horn,  you  take  your  war  dogs  and  find  them,"  said 
Colonel  Carr  to  me. 


A  VINDICATION.  105 

I  had  previously  told  him  I  could  find  them  within 
a  few  days  sure,  for  my  volunteers  knew  the  country  so 
well  that  the  renegades  could  not  get  away. 

"Find  them,"  said  Carr,  "and  go  at  them;  then  send 
me  word  and  I  will  come,  and  come  a-runnin?,  too." 

I  started  out  and  went  right  straight  to  the  renegades. 
When  I  struck  their  trail  I  saw  they  were  headed  in  the 
direction  of  Green  Valley.  I  sent  word  back  to  Camp 
Apache  to  Carr,  and  kept  on  after  them.  In  Green  Val 
ley  I  found  they  had  taken  a  lot  of  horses  from  old  man 
Tweeksbury  and  a  lot  from  Al  Rose.  About  ten  miles 
farther  on  I  found  they  had  killed  Louie  Huron  and 
Charley  Sigsbee.  All  of  the  settlers  thereabout  had 
joined  me.  I  left  them  to  bury  the  dead  men  and  look 
after  one  of  the  Sigsbee  boys  who  had  ben  wounded,  and 
who  had  killed  one  of  the  renegades  after  he  was  shot. 

I  was  all  alone  with  my  "wrar  dogs"  as  Colonel  Carr 
called  them,  and  they  were  very  anxious  to  strike  the 
renegades,  who  were  not  more  than  six  hours  ahead  of 
us.  It  was  night,  though,  and  we  had  to  camp  and  get 
ready  for  a  big  ride  on  the  next  day.  Our  horses  were 
a  little  tired  and  my  main  man  of  these  Indian  volunteers, 
whose  name  was  Tul-pi,  said  we  could  start  as  late  as 
daybreak  and  yet  strike  the  renegades  before  night.  We 
camped  and  Sigsbee  let  us  turn  our  horses  in  his  pasture 
where  the  feed  was  fine.  Sigsbee  gave  us  a  sack  of  flour 
and  we  killed  a  yearling  heifer  belonging  to  Stimpson, 
and  proceeded  to  "fill  up."  Tul-pi  had  put  out  guards 
around  on  the  hills,  and  pretty  soon  they  yelled  that 
there  wras  American  cavalry  coming.  It  was  perfectly 
dark,  but  they  could  tell  from  the  sound  of  the  horses 
feet.  I  got  on  one  of  the  guard's  ponies  and  went  to 


10G  LIFE  OF  TOM   HORN: 

meet  the  cavalry;  for  my  men  were  all  Indians  and  I  was 
afraid  we  might  be  taken  for  hostiles. 

It  proved  to  be  Major  Chaffee,  Al  Sieber  and  Pat 
Kehoe.  Chaffee  had  started  from  McDowell  and  had 
come  through  the  Green  Valley  at  a  guess,  and  he  had 
struck  it  right.  Sieber  and  Pat  Kehoe  had  been  close  to 
Camp  Apache,  and  had  met  the  courier  I  was  sending 
back  to  let  Colonel  Carr  know  I  was  on  the  trail,  so  on 
they  came  after  me.  They  had  run  into  Major  Chaffee 
in  Green  Valley. 

Well,  we  all  camped,  and  as  they  had  been  traveling 
all  day  and  it  was  now  past  9  o'clock  at  night,  they  were 
a  tired  lot,  but  they  were  all  full  of  fight. 

After  everybody  got  filled  up  we  had  a  war  talk,  and 
I  told  Major  Chaffee  what  my  war  chief  had  to  say,  and 
that  was  that  we  could  strike  the  Indians  next  day. 
Sieber  and  Kehoe  thought  the  same  thing,  but  all  of  us 
knew  we  would  have  to  make  a  long,  hard  drive  to 
make  it. 

At  daylight,  Major  Chaffee  cut  loose  from  his  pack 
trains,  and  away  we  went.  About  ten  miles  from  where 
we  camped,  the  Indians  had  camped  and  then  we  knew 
we  would  get  them  that  day.  How  we  did  go.  All  my 
men  were  mounted  on  their  very  best  war  ponies,  and  all 
had  had  a  good  night's  feed  and  rest,  so  everything  was 
in  shape  for  a  big  day's  ride.  The  cavalry  troop  were  in 
like  condition  and  all  extra  traps  had  been  left  with  the 
pack  train. 

About  10  o'clock  we  came  to  the  Meadows  Ranch,  on 
the  east  fork  of  the  Verde,  and  found  old  man  Meadows 
killed,  Hank  shot  all  to  pieces,  and  John  also  badly  shot 
up.  We  left  the  doctor,  a  couple  of  soldiers  and  a 


A  VINDICATION.  107 

couple  of  citizens  who  were  following  us  to  help  them, 
and  learned  from  the  ranchers  that  the  renegades  had 
most  likely  seen  us  coming  when  they  left  the  Meadows 
Ranch.  Mrs.  Meadows  swore  the  Indians  were  not  half 
a  mile  ahead  of  us. 

As  soon  as  we  left  the  Meadows  Ranch  we  could  see 
that  there  was  a  change  in  things,  for  the  renegades  be 
gan  to  go  faster  and  to  drop  horses.  About  noon  we 
struck  them  as  we  went  up  out  of  the  basin  on  to  the 
rim.  We  struck  only  a  few,  and  that  formed  the  rear 
guard  they  had  thrown  out.  My  men  killed  one  and  shot 
another  so  we  caught  him  in  about  a  mile.  He  soon  died. 
He  proved  to  be  one  of  the  men  who  had  mutinied  when 
Hentig  was  killed.  We  overtook  him  at  a  place  called 
Crook's  Springs.  I  was  trying  to  hold  some  of  my  men 
out  so  as  to  keep  us  from  running  into  a  trap,  but  Major 
Chaffee  said  the  renegades  were  traveling  so  fast  they 
could  not  lay  an  ambush  for  us.  Anyhow,  we  were  trav 
eling  so  fast  I  could  not  keep  my  men  out.  Tul-pi  said 
we  would  get  the  renegades  wrhen  they  were  crossing 
Chevlon's  Fork,  a  very  deep  canon  a  short  distance 
ahead.  Sieber  and  Pat  thought  the  same  thing.  Chev- 
lon's  Canon  was  a  canon  that  could  be  crossed  in  but  a 
few  places  on  account  of  its  depth  and  the  precipitous 
nature  of  its  walls.  We  all  knew  this  crossing  we  were 
coming  to,  and  Sieber  told  Chaffee  to  send  five  men  with 
Pat  Kehoe  to  go  below,  and  the  Indians  could  never  get 
up  on  the  other  side. 

As  we  came  to  the  banks  of  the  canon  the  renegades 
were  just  starting  up  on  the  opposite  side.  We  opened 
fire  on  them,  of  course.  About  half  way  up  the  side  of 
the  canon,  on  the  opposite  side,  the  trail  would  have 


108  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

to  run  around  on  a  wide  bench  for  a  ways  to  find  an 
opening  in  the  bench  to  allow  them  to  pass  through. 
Then  there  would  be  a  place  in  the  trail  leading  straight 
away  from  us.  The  distance  was  just  about  six  hundred 
yards,  and  when  they  came  to  a  place  that  led  straight 
away  from  us  it  made  fine  shooting.  Going  up  over  the 
last  rim  was  a  place  about  sixty  feet  long,  and  no  one 
could  get  out  of  the  canon  without  going  through  this 
place.  Sieber  and  the  first  sergeant  of  I  Troop  (Chaffee's), 
whose  name  was  Woodall,  and  who  was  a  famous  shot, 
took  up  a  position  with  me  to  command  this  last  slide, 
to  stop  as  many  Indians  and  horses  as  possible. 

It  was  a  deadly  place  for  the  renegades.  We  had 
been  at  them  an  hour,  at  least,  before  they  got  up  to 
this  place,  and  they  were  pretty  badly  demoralized.  Pat 
Kehoe  had  gotten  his  five  men  down  in  the  canon  be 
low  them,  and  they  could  not  go  that  way.  Up  the  canon 
it  was  impossible  for  them  to  go,  so  up  the  slide  they  had 
to  go.  Not  a  horse  ever  did  jret  up  that  place.  There 
were  three  started  up  at  first,  and  the  one  in  the  lead 
was  a  gray.  I  suppose  we  all  thought  the  same  thing, 
and  that  was  if  we  could  hit  the  lead  horse  he  would 
fall  back  on  the  others  and  knock  them  down  like  ten 
pins.  We  all  fired  at  the  gray  horse  and  down  he  came, 
struggling,  and  back  he  knocked  the  two  behind  him. 
We  all  felt  good,  for  if  Sieber  and  Woodall  felt  as  I  did, 
each  of  them  thought  his  shot  had  done  the  work. 

"Good  work,  men!"  cried  Major  Chaff ee;  "keep  that 
hole  stopped  and  we  have  got  'em."  He  did  not  use  just 
those  words,  for  Chaffee,  in  a  fight,  can  beat  any  man 
swearing  I  ever  heard.  He  swears  by  ear,  and  by  note  in 
a  common  way,  and  by  everything  else  in  a  general  way. 


A  VINDICATION.  109 

He  would  swear  when  his  men  would  miss  a  good  shot, 
and  he  would  swear  when  they  made  a  good  shot.  He 
swore  at  himself  for  not  bringing  more  ammunition,  and 
he  would  swear  at  his  men  for  wasting  their  ammuni 
tion  or  shooting  too  often.  Then  an  Indian  would  expose 
himself  and  he  would  swear  and  yell:  "Shoot,  you  damned 
idiots!  What  do  you  suppose  I  give  you  ammunition  for 
—to  eat?" 

The  gray  horse  stuck  in  the  trail  and  no  other  horse 
could  get  up  till  he  was  gotten  out  of  the  way.  Several 
renegades  tried  to  get  him  out  of  the  way,  but  it  was 
an  awful  place  to  work  to  much  advantage,  for  we  were 
all  good  shots,  and  while  the  distance  was  close  to  six 
hundred  yards,  we  had  the  range  down  so  fine,  and  we 
were  perhaps  fifty  feet  above  them,  so  that  for  that  dis 
tance  the  spot  for  us  was  ideal.  After  they  saw  they 
could  not  get  the  gray  horse  away  from  the  place  where 
he  had  fallen,  another  tried  to  lead  his  horse  over  the 
gray  one,  and  down  that  horse  went;  not  ontop  of  the 
gray,  but  nearly  so,  and  that  blocked  the  trail  completely. 
No  more  horses  tried  to  go  through,  but  several  Indians 
ran  up  on  foot. 

About  4  o'clock  there  came  up  the  heaviest  hail  and 
rain  storm  that  I  ever  saw  in  my  life.  There  was  heavy 
pine  timber  all  over  the  country.  The  storm  came  up 
suddenly,  and  it  got  so  very  dark  that  we  could  not  see 
across  the  canon.  Then  the  hail  and  rain  commenced. 
Wah!  I  feel  cold  and  wet  from  it  yet!  That  hail  and 
rain  punished  us  pretty  well,  I  tell  you.  It  was  over  in 
twrenty  minutes,  and  the  fight  was  over,  also.  All  of  us 
were  so  cold  and  wet  we  could  neither  see  nor  shoot,  and 


110  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

there  was  a  regular  torrent  running  in  the  bottom  of  the 
canon. 

After  the  storm  was  over  we  went  back  a  short  dis 
tance  and  waited  and  wished  for  Chaffee's  pack  train. 
About  6  o'clock  we  were  all  surprised  to  see  the  pack 
train  come  in,  but  in  the  meanwhile  we  had  some  fires 
started  and  were  feeling  better.  We  soon  got  something 
to  eat,  for  there  were  many  willing  cooks  that  night. 
The  pack  train  had  seen  no  hail  nor  rain  and  was  per 
fectly  dry.  Our  horses  were  all  doing  well,  for  the  grass 
was  as  fine  and  fresh  as  I  ever  saw  anywhere. 

After  dark  Colonel  Carr  and  a  couple  of  troops  of  cav 
alry  came  in.  He  had  made  a  very  long  march,  having 
come  from  Canon  Creek  that  day.  He  also  went  into 
camp,  and  considering  how  wet  and  cold  we  all  had 
been  at  4  o'clock,  we  thought  now  we  were  in  luck. 

A  lieutenant  in  Chaffee's  troop,  who  was  afterwards 
killed  on  San  Juan  Hill  (his  name  was  West),  in  telling 
some  of  the  officers  of  Carr's  command  how  wet  and 
cold  we  got,  explained  everything  about  it  to  his  own 
satisfaction  by  saying:  "Why,  Major  Chaff ee  got  so  cold 
and  wet  he  had  to  stop  swearing."  (Carr  and  his  com 
mand  had  not  seen  any  rain  or  hail,  either.) 

On  the  following  morning  we  were  all  thrown  out  to 
cross  the  canon  and  see  what  damage  we  had  done  the 
day  before.  We  found  a  sad  looking  outfit  up  on  the 
side  of  the  canon.  Out  of  more  than  a  hundred  horses, 
the  renegades  had  only  about  twenty  that  were  not  killed 
or  wounded.  We  found  twenty-one  dead  Indians,  and 
one  wounded  squaw.  Some  of  the  soldiers  afterwards 
said  that  there  were  a  couple  of  wounded  bucks,  but  that 
Micky  had  stuck  his  knife  into  them.  Micky  had  come 


A  VINDICATION.  Ill 

up  with  Carr  the  night  before.  I  don't  know  if  Micky  did 
this  deed  or  not;  but  I  am  afraid  he  did. 

A  squaw  had  been  shot  on  the  shin  bone  by  a  Spring 
field  rifle  ball,  and  the  bone  was  of  course  shattered  in 
a  thousand  pieces.  The  soldiers,  some  of  them,  ran 
onto  her,  and  were  getting  ready  to  carry  her  back  to 
camp,  under  the  direction  of  the  army  surgeon;  when 
they  were  all  ready  to  start  with  her  she  began  to  scream 
and  motion,  and  kept  pointing  to  a  pile  of  rocks  and 
brush,  and  one  of  the  soldiers  looked  to  see  what  there 
was  there  that  she  was  making  so  much  fuss  about,  as 
they  could  not  understand  what  she  was  saying.  The 
soldier  found  a  little  old  papoose,  about  ten  months  or 
a  year  old,  concealed  under  that  rubbish.  One  of  the 
men  carried  it  along  over  to  camp.  There  the  surgeons 
cut  her  leg  off,  and  she  was  sent  into  Camp  Verde  along 
with  a  few  wounded  soldiers  we  had. 

All  the  rest  of  the  troops,  except  Major  Chaffee's,  re 
turned  to  their  respective  posts,  while  Chaffee  and  his 
troop,  my  volunteers  and  I,  started  out  to  see  if  we  could 
find  which  way  the  escaped  Indians  had  gone. 

The  wounded  squaw  told  Tul-pi  that  there  had  been 
about  forty-five  warriors  in  the  party,  and  she  thought 
most  of  them  were  killed.  She  said  they  all  knew  that 
a  lot  of  Pedro's  warriors  were  with  the  soldiers,  and  they 
were  all  very  mad  because  Pedro  would  send  his  men 
out  after  them.  The  woman  said  the  Cibicus  learned 
the  morning  of  the  day  of  the  fight  that  these  men  of 
Pedro's  were  after  them. 

We  could  not  learn  anything  of  the  ones  who  had  es 
caped,  for  most  of  them  had  gotten  away  before  the  hail 
of  the  day  before.  Nearly  every  evening  a  hail  storm 


112  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

or  a  rain  storm  would  come  up,  and  as  all  the  men  we 
were  after  were  on  foot,  the  signs  of  them  were  soon  ob 
literated. 

We  stayed  around  there  on  top  of  the  mountain  for 
about  ten  days.  We  even  went  as  far  down  as  Chane's 
Pass,  where  there  was  a  sheep  camp.  We  camped  within 
about  a  mile  of  the  Pass,  and  several  of  us  went  down  to 
see  if  they  had  seen  any  sign  of  the  scattered  renegades, 
but  found  they  had  not. 

The  foreman  of  the  shearing  pens,  (they  were  shear 
ing),  told  us  a  big,  long-winded  story  of  a  bear  that  was 
packing  a  sheep  off  every  night,  and  how  they  had  lain 
out  by  the  shearing  pens  all  night  watching  for  him  to 
come  back  so  they  could  kill  him. 

We  wrent  back  to  camp,  and  about  1  o'clock  that  night 
a  sheep  herder  came  to  our  camp  to  see  if  he  could  get 
our  doctor  to  come  down  to  the  shearing  pens.  He  told 
us  that  the  bear  they  had  been  laying  for  for  several 
nights  had  made  his  appearance.  The  bear,  from  what 
'we  could  learn  from  the  herder,  had  come  along  about 
midnight  and  the  two  men  who  were  lying  there  fired 
at  him.  The  bear  grabbed  one  of  the  men  and  nearly 
ate  him  up  before  all  of  the  men  belonging  to  the  camp 
could  get  the  bear  to  let  up  on  his  victim.  The  com 
panion  of  the  wTounded  man  had  gone  for  help  as  soon 
as  the  bear  grabbed  his  partner,  and  in  a  couple  of 
minutes  nearly  all  the  men  in  camp  were  there.  The 
bear  had  been  very  busy  in  the  meanwhile,  and  when  all 
the  camp  got  around  him  he  had  dropped  his  man  and 
skipped  out.  Our  doctor,  or  rather  surgeon,  went  down 
with  the  herder,  and  I  followed  a  few  minutes  later  with 
Sieber.  The  man  the  bear  had  been  doing  business  with 


A  VINDICATION.  113 

was  still  alive,  but  he  was  the  worst  used  up  man  I  ever 
saw.  He  was  crushed  and  bitten  and  broken  in  every 
bone  and  muscle,  so  our  doctor  said.  He  died  before 
morning.  Some  of  the  men  in  the  sheep  camp  said  the 
bear  had  been  eating  sheep  meat  till  he  was  tired  of  it, 
and  when  he  met  a  hog  he  thought  he  would  have  a  mess 
of  it. 

Finally  we  got  word  to  leave  the  top  of  the  mountain 
and  go  back  home.  Chaffee  went  back  by  way  of  Camp 
Verde  and  I  went  back  to  Camp  Apache  and  disbanded 
my  volunteers.  The  scattered  renegades  had  all  returned 
to  Cibicu  and  Canon  Creek  and  were  hiding  among  the 
other  Indians. 


114  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  : 


CHAPTER  XII. 


Horn  "Gets"  the  Four  Bad  Indians  Wanted  at  Camp 
Apache — Horn  Is  "Threatened"  With  a  Government 
Medal  for  Bravery — "I  Did  Nothing  Very  Great."— 
The  Medal  Still  Waiting— Sieber  and  Horn  Before 
Investigating  Committee — Border  Justice  to  Horse- 
Thieves  Dealt  Under  Horn's  Directions — Unexpected 
Interruption  by  Department  Commander  and  Depart 
ment  Inspector — A  Row  and  Reconciliation — A  Clever 
Indian  Trick. 

I  had  been  working  since  early  in  the  spring  and  had 
not  received  any  pay  and  Sieber  had  had  a  good  deal  of 
correspondence  about  it.  When  we  got  back  to  Camp 
Apache  I  was  informed  by  the  Quartermaster  that  my 
pay  was  all  straightened  out  and  was  at  San  Carlos,  for 
me  to  go  there  without  delay  and  get  it. 

The  commanding  officer  at  Camp  Apache  wanted  to 
get  the  rest  of  the  Indians  who  had  mutinied  when  Hentig 
was  killed,  and  asked  me  to  go  and  see  if  I  could  do  any 
thing  toward  catching  them.  I  sent  a  man  to  Jon  Dazen, 
a  bad  man  and  a  big  chief  on  Canon  Creek,  to  say  that 
if  he  did  not  bring  in  these  four  Indians  right  away  I 
would  go  to  Pedro  and  get  a  lot  of  his  warriors  and  go 
down  there  and  look  for  them. 

Jon  Dazen  did  not  want  me  down  there  with  Pedro's 
braves,  so  in  four  days  after  I  sent  him  this  word,  he 
came  into  Camp  Apache  with  the  four  men  the  com- 


A  VINDICATION.  115 

manding  officer  wanted.  They  were  Dead  Shot,  Dandy 
Jim,  Loco  and  another  man  whose  name  I  do  not  remem 
ber.  (These  bad  Indians  were  later,  in  1882,  hanged  at 
Camp  Grant). 

I  was  not  in  Camp  Apache  when  these  Indians  were 
brought  in,  as  I  had  gone  to  Pedro's  camp  to  see  and 
council  with  him  as  to  how  to  get  these  Indians. 

"Go  back  to  Camp  Apache,"  said  the  old  warrior, 
"and  in  a  few  days  they  will  be  brought  in.  Those  bad 
men  down  there  have  had  enough  of  you  and  of  my  men, 
and  to  keep  you  from  coming  down  there  with  my  men 
they  will  surrender  the  men  you  want." 

And,  sure  enough,  when  I  got  back  to  Camp  Apache, 
the  men  were  all  in  the  guard  house,  heavily  ironed. 

I  then  proceeded  to  San  Carlos  to  get  my  pay,  now  so 
long  delayed. 

Everything  was  quite  there,  the  only  excitement  they 
had  had  right  at  the  Agency  during  the  summer  was  the 
killing  of  Charley  Culvig,  who  had  been  made  Chief  of 
the  Agency  Police  after  Stirling  was  killed.  Colvig,  or 
"Cibicu  Charley,"  as  he  was  called,  had  gone  up  the  San 
Carlos  River  one  day  on  some  business  or  other,  and  at 
the  place  called  the  Ten  Mile  Pole,  he  was  shot  and  killed. 

His  killing  had  not  created  much  trouble,  as  the  In 
dian  police  with  him  had  killed  the  man  who  shot  him, 
and  that  was  all  there  was  to  it. 

Sieber  went  to  San  Carlos  and  located  for  the  winter, 
and  I  was  left  to  look  after  things  all  over  the  Reserva 
tion.  Sieber,  after  he  located  at  San  Carlos,  sent  and 
got  Sage  and  made  him  Chief  of  Police. 

I  received  a  long  complimentary  letter  from  the  De 
partment  Commander,  General  Wilcox,  along  in  the  fall 


116  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  I 

or  early  winter,  telling  me  that  I  was  an  excellent  man, 
and  that  he  had  taken  proper  steps  to  have  a  medal  pre 
sented  to  me  for  bringing  old  Sergeant  Murray  out  of  the 
fight  after  he  was  wounded  on  what  was  called  in  the 
letter,  Tupper's  Battle  Ground  at  the  Sierra  Media  in 
Mexico,  and  also  for  saving  the  balance  of  the  command 
after  Captain  Hentig  had  been  killed  on  Cibicu;  describ 
ing  how  I,  under  heavy  fire,  took  one  man  and  gained  a 
high  commanding  point  over  the  troops  and  kept  them 
from  getting  demoralized  and  annihilated,  by  yelling  to 
the  soldiers  to  keep  cool  and  to  send  up  another  man  or 
two;  that  with  the  assistance  of  twro  more  men  I  could 
whip  all  the  Cibicus  in  the  hills;  also,  for  my  excellent 
service  with  my  volunteer  force  from  Pedro's  camp. 

That  was  the  first  time  I  learned  I  had  done  anything 
very  great. 

On  the  famous  Tupper's  Battle  Ground,  (I  had  always 
considered  that  was  no  fight),  I  thought  at  that  time,  and 
I  think  so  now,  that  we  were  bent  not  so  much  on  fight 
ing  as  we  were  on  getting  a  lot  of  ponies.  I  know  there 
was  no  thought  of  whipping  the  Indians,  for  we  knew 
we  could  not  do  that,  and  the  only  thing  we  could  do  was 
capture  a  lot  of  horses  for  Major  Tupper  to  "show  off." 
Of  course  I  brought  old  Sergeant  Murray  out  of  the  fight, 
but  I  had  taken  him  in  also,  and  I  could  not  very  well 
leave  the  old  man  alone;  for  he  was  an  old  Civil  War 
veteran,  had  been  soldiering  for  about  twenty-five  years, 
and  after  he  was  knocked  off  his  horse  he  could  not  walk, 
and  if  I  got  him  away  from  under  the  Indians  fire  I  had 
to  pack  him.  So,  actually,  that  is  all  there  was  to  that; 
but  the  way  it  was  described  on  paper,  it  did  look  great. 


A  VINDICATION.  117 

There  at  Cibicu  I  was  afraid  Sieber  would  get  killed, 
for  I  could  have  run  away  myself  easily  enough,  but 
Sieber  kept  with  the  soldiers  and  he  and  some  of  the  men 
were  carrying  Hentig,  who  was  dead.  I  could  not  run 
away  and  leave  Sieber.  He  would  not  leave  the  soldiers, 
and  when  I  saw  that,  I  knew  I  would  have  to  fight  the 
Indians  away  till  they  all  got  out.  I  know  I  was  not 
thinking  at  all  of  keeping  the  soldiers  from  getting  killed 
nor  demoralized,  as  this  great  letter  said,  but  I  knew 
Hentig  was  dead,  and  I  was  wondering  all  the  time  what 
they  wanted  to  monkey  with  a  dead  man  for.  The  reason 
I  yelled  to  Sieber  to  send  me  a  couple  more  men  was  be 
cause  when  Sieber  started  in  to  get  them  out  I  knew  it 
would  not  be  worth  while  to  tell  him  to  cut  loose  from 
the  soldiers  and  run  up  to  where  I  was,  for  I  knew  when 
he  started  to  do  anything  he  would  do  it.  So  I  had  to 
hold  off  the  hostiles  to  let  Sieber  get  out.  I  never 
thought  of  saving  the  rest  of  the  command. 

As  for  my  now  famous  volunteers,  Pedro's  warriors, 
had  I  not  taken  them  with  me  Pedro  would  have  thought 
I  had  no  confidence  in  him  nor  his  braves.  So  the  whole 
letter,  while  highly  complimentary,  was  simply  based  on 
some  account  of  these  affairs  as  reported  to  him  by  some 
army  officer,  and  in  reality  there  was  nothing  extra 
ordinary  about  any  of  it. 

By  the  way,  that  was  the  last  I  ever  heard  of  that 
medal. 

Along  before  Christmas  there  came  to  San  Carlos  a 
delegation  of  army  officers  to  see  Sieber  and  me  about 
our  raid  into  Mexican  territory.  "In  violation  of  the  in 
ternational  agreement  between  the  United  States  of 
America  and  the  Republic  of  Mexico,"  I  think  this  sum- 


118  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  : 

mons  read.  There  were  eight  officers  in  this  investigating 
committee,  and  two  of  them  were  Mexicans,  though  they 
spoke  English  fluently. 

Sieber  was  sworn  in  and  told  his  tale,  and  then  I  was 
sworn  in  and  told  mine.  I  don't  remember  now  the 
names  of  these  officers.  I  did  not  know  their  names  at 
the  time,  except  of  one  of  the  Mexican  officers,  which 
was  E.  Milo  Kosterlitzki.  He  was  a  Polander  by  birth, 
a  very  gallant  and  courteous  officer,  whom  I  afterwrards 
got  to  know  intimately. 

All  we  had  to  do  was  to  tell  them  what  we  knew,  and 
I  was  asked  who  I  got  my  orders  from,  and  I  told  them 
I  got  them  from  Sieber,  the  chief  of  scouts.  I  was  asked 
if  Major  Tupper  gave  me  any  commands,  and  I  told  them 
no;  I  was  asked  if  Colonel  Forsythe  gave  me  any  orders, 
and  I  told  them  no.  I  never  heard  of  anything  being 
done  about  the  affair  afterwards.  Everything  was  done 
very  quietly,  and  Sieber  told  me  to  keep  my  own  council 
in  this  matter. 

Along  early  in  1881,  while  I  was  camped  about  twelve 
miles  above  San  Carlos,  Indians  kept  complaining  to  me 
about  Mexicans  stealing  their  horses,  and  several  of  them 
wanted  me  to  do  something  about  it.  I  rode  down  to 
the  Agency  and  saw  Sieber,  and  asked  him  what  I 
could  do. 

"Organize  your  'Injins,'  and  the  next  time  any  horses 
are  stolen,  go  after  them,"  said  Sieber. 

I  went  back  up  to  camp  and  called  up  all  the  sub- 
chiefs,  and  from  them  learned  that  Mexicans  had  come 
in  on  the  Reservation  on  two  different  occasions,  stolen 
horses  (always  taking  the  best  war  ponies),  and  headed, 
on  both  occasions,  towards  the  source  of  Turkey  Creek, 


A  VINDICATION.  119 

keeping  on  to  the  Mexican  settlements  on  the  Little  Colo 
rado  River. 

I  then  made  arrangements  for  six  different  Indians 
to  keep  up  a  good  horse  apiece  each  night,  so  they  could 
be  gotten  early  in  the  morning,  and  for  them  to  keep 
that  up  until  more  horses  were  stolen,  and  to  let  me 
know  as  soon  as  possible  after  the  horses  were  taken. 

Along  in  February  word  came  in,  about  dawn  one 
morning,  that  the  Mexicans  had  stolen  a  bunch  of  horses 
and  gone.  In  ten  minutes  after  the  word  came  in  I  was 
started  with  two  men,  the  way  the  Mexicans  had  been  seen 
going,  about  an  hour  before  daylight,  by  some  squaws 
that  were  camped  up  in  the  hills  gathering  muscal.  By 
sunup  there  were  six  of  us  on  the  trail  of  the  horses.  We 
soon  saw  they  were  not  more  than  a  couple  or  three 
miles  ahead  of  us,  and  then  we  concluded  they  would 
come  up  out  of  the  canon  close  to  Turkey  Springs.  One 
of  my  men  said  there  was  a  trail  we  could  get  over  that 
we  could  make  a  cut-off  and  either  overtake  them  or  get 
ahead  of  them.  These  Turkey  Springs  were  on  top  of 
the  mountains,  and  the  Mexicans  would  have  a  down-hill 
swing  from  there,  if  they  could  make  it.  The  Govern 
ment  road  also  ran  by  the  springs. 

We  took  the  cut-off  on  the  Mexicans  and  got  in  ahead 
of  them  all  right,  just  at  the  Turkey  Springs.  The  first 
the  Mexicans  knew,  we  were  ahead  of  them.  I  yelled 
to  one  of  them  to  surrender.  He  started  to  run,  ran 
right  up  to  one  of  my  men  and  was  killed.  The  other 
two  Mexicans  were  killed  also,  but  one  of  them  ran  about 
half  a  mile  before  the  Indians  got  him.  Finally,  my  men 
came  back  and  said  they  had  killed  the  last  one  over  in 
the  head  of  the  gulch,  and  had  his  horse,  saddle  and  gun. 


120  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

The  horse,  by  the  way,  was  a  war  horse  belonging  to  one 
of  the  Indians. 

About  this  time,  Indians  who  had  started  later  than 
we  did  began  to  come  in,  and  some  of  them  had  been 
close  enough  to  hear  the  shooting.  Half  an  hour  after 
we  got  to  Turkey  Springs  we  had  all  the  horses,  and  the 
three  Mexicans  wrere  dead.  Everybody  felt  good,  and 
as  two  of  the  dead  Mexicans  were  close  to  the  springs, 
and  one  of  them  was  off  some  distance,  one  of  the  bucks 
said  he  did  not  get  there  in  time  to  help  kill  them,  but 
that  he  and  his  partner  would  go  and  drag  the  one  up 
that  was  over  in  the  head  of  the  next  gulch.  So  away 
they  went. 

I  wanted  to  bury  the  Mexicans,  but  the  Indians  said, 
"No,  let  them  lie  by  the  side  of  the  road  here  at  the 
springs,  and  any  other  Mexicans  coming  along  will  see 
them,  and,  as  all  Mexicans  are  horse-thieves,  when  they 
see  these  dead  Mexicans  they  will  decide  that  it  is  not 
good  to  steal  Apache  horses!" 

Just  then  we  heard  the  tramp  of  cavalry  horses,  and, 
as  they  were  on  the  Government  road,  I  got  on  my  horse 
and  went  to  meet  them,  for  by  this  time  there  was  a 
large  bunch  of  Indians  at  the  springs. 

It  proved  to  be  the  ambulance  of  General  Wilcox  and 
his  escort.  He  was  making  a  round  of  the  Government 
posts  with  the  department  inspector.  They  were  right 
on  us,  and  came  on  up  to  the  springs,  as  they  were  going 
to  stop  there  for  feed  and  lunch.  Of  course,  the  first 
things  they  saw  were  the  two  dead  Mexicans,  and,  as 
I  had  never  met  General  Wilcox  personally,  so  that  he 
knew  me,  I  told  him  who  I  was,  and  he  said,  "Yes,  yes." 


A  VINDICATION.  121 

Then  he  saw  the  dead  Mexicans  and  asked  me  what 
it  meant,  and  asked  me  where  the  troops  were,  and  I 
told  or  was  telling  him  how  it  all  came  up,  but  I  could 
see  that  he  was  mad.  To  make  bad  matters  worse,  just 
then  up  came  the  two  Indians  who  had  gone  after  the 
Mexican  in  the  next  gulch,  and  now  they  came,  dragging 
him,  with  each  of  them  a  rope  tied  to  the  dead  Mexican's 
feet.  General  Wilcox  did  not  know  at  first  what  they 
were  dragging,  but  as  Indians  and  soldiers  gathered 
around  the  newly  arrived,  the  General  saw  what  it  was. 
I  was  trying  to  explain  it  all  to  him,  but  he  did  not  want 
any  explanation,  and  oh,  what  a  raking  he  did  give  me! 

I  can't  remember  all  the  things  he  said  of  me,  but 
none  of  them  were  very  complimentary,  and  perhaps 
that  is  the  reason  I  can't  remember  them. 

Among  other  things,  he  said  it  was  no  wonder  there 
was  so  much  turbulence  on  the  Reservation,  when  a 
white  man  of  my  position  and  influence  with  the  Indians 
tolerated  such  things  as  this.  "And  not  only  do  you  tol 
erate  it,"  he  said,  "but  I  believe  you  encourage  it.  I 
have  a  notion  to  have  you  arrested  by  my  escort  and 
take  you  to  Camp  Thomas  and  put  you  in  irons." 

I  wanted  to  explain  it  all  to  him,  but  he  would  not 
let  me  talk,  and  would  keep  telling  me  not  to  talk  back 
to  him,  but  he  would  not  quit  upbraiding  me.  I  was 
getting  pretty  tired  of  it,  so  I  thought  as  Sieber  always 
swore  and  raised  Cain  when  he  got  in  trouble  that  I 
would  try  the  same  game  on  Wilcox.  I  tore  loose  at 
him,  and  I  did  my  best  to  equal  Sieber  or  Major  Chaffee, 
but  I  was  a  novice  in  the  art  compared  with  such  ac 
complished  veterans.  Still,  I  could  see  I  was  making 
an  impression,  so  I  kept  on  and  "gave  him  the  other 


122  LIFE  OF  TOM   HORN: 

barrel/'  and  really  I  guess  I  did  pretty  well.  My  Indians 
all  came  around,  and,  while  they  did  not  understand  one 
word  that  was  being  spoken,  they  knew  I  was  mad,  or 
they  thought  I  was,  and  they  knew  it  must  be  the  horse- 
thieves  that  had  caused  the  trouble;  at  any  rate,  they 
were  with  me  heart  and  soul. 

General  Wilcox  was  a  fine-looking  soldier.  An  old 
man  he  was  at  this  time;  his  hair  was  perfectly  white. 
He  was  dressed  in  civilian's  clothes,  and  the  Indians 
knew  he  must  be  a  man  of  importance,  but  it  did  not 
make  any  difference  to  them  who  he  was,  for  they  were 
with  me,  body  and  soul. 

I  guess  I  swore  and  tore  along  at  a  pretty  fair  rate, 
for  the  old  man  seemed  paralyzed  for  a  while.  Then  he 
ordered  the  officer  of  the  escort  to  drive  me  and  the 
Indians  out  of  camp.  We  started  in  a  minute  after  we 
got  the  order,  and  then  General  Wilcox  called  me  back 
and  said:  "What  are  you  going  to  do  with  those  dead 
Mexicans?"  I  told  him  I  guessed  we  would  leave  them, 
as  we  had  no  use  for  them  at  camp.  He  ordered  his 
escort  to  bury  them,  and  then  told  me  to  skip,  and  said 
he  would  take  my  case  up  with  Sieber,  my  Chief  of 
Scouts. 

Every  time  I  would  start  off,  he  would  call  me  back 
and  have  some  more  words  with  me,  but  he  kept  getting 
in  a  better  humor  all  the  time,  and  finally  wound  up  by 
asking  me  to  stay  to  lunch  with  them!  This  I  could  not 
do,  as  I  had  all  my  braves,  who  would  have  had  to  go 
hungry;  and,  though  it  was  now  noon,  I  explained  to 
the  General  that  we  had  all  had  to  start  before  break 
fast,  and  were  as  hungry  as  wolves;  that,  though  it  was 


A  VINDICATION.  123 

forty  miles  to  camp,  we  did  not  think  much  of  the 
return  rider. 

General  Wilcox  then  called  the  officer  in  charge  of 
the  escort  and  made  some  inquiries  about  the  rations, 
and  we  were  given  a  sack  of  flour  and  some  bacon.  This 
I  told  the  Indians  to  cook  and  eat,  and  in  a  short  time 
we  were  all  eating. 

General  Wilcox  had  his  youngest  son  with  him,  and 
the  boy  was  looking  at  a  fancy  buckskin  bag  one  of  the 
Indians  had;  was  admiring  it  and  wanted  to  buy  it.  I 
spoke  to  the  Indian,  telling  him  to  give  the  bag  to  the 
boy,  but  to  take  nothing  for  it.  The  Indian  then  gave 
the  boy  the  bag.  Young  Wilcox  insisted  on  giving  the 
donor  a  dollar,  but  the  Indian  spoke  to  the  other 
Indians  to  get  in  a  bunch.  This  they  did,  for  they  well 
understood  the  game  proposed.  The  Indian  who  had 
given  the  bag  then  crowded  into  the  bunch  of  Indians. 
The  Indians  immediately  scattered  out  again,  and  young 
Wilcox  did  not  know  which  of  the  Indians  had  given 
him  the  trinket.  This  caused  a  big  laugh  among  the 
soldiers  and  Indians,  and,  as  the  whole  outfit  was  now 
ready  for  the  road  again,  after  bidding  us  good-bye,  and 
after  being  told  by  General  Wilcox  that  may  be  I  under 
stood  the  Indian  question  better  than  he  did,  and  cau 
tioned  me  "not  to  do  so  any  more,"  they  pulled  out, 
cheered  to  the  echo  by  my  outfit. 

Charley  Wilcox,  the  boy  who  was  with  his  father, 
General  Wilcox,  on  that  trip,  is  now  the  business  man 
ager  for  William  Cook  Daniels,  of  the  old  firm  of  Daniels 
&  Fisher,  Denver,  Colorado.  He  was  for  several  years 
reporter  on  a  Denver  newspaper. 


124  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

We  all  got  on  our  horses  and  struck  out  for  camp 
as  soon  as  the  soldiers  left,  and  it  was  late  when  we  got 
back,  as  we  rode  slowly,  having  ridden  very  hard  in  the 
morning.  Our  ponies  had  gotten  a  couple  of  hours'  rest 
while  we  were  at  Turkey  Springs,  but  we  were  forty 
miles  from  camp. 

The  next  day  I  went  down  to  the  Agency  and  told 
Sieber  the  whole  thing  just  as  it  happened — of  the  row 
and  reconciliation  with  General  Wilcox.  Sieber  said  I 
was  doing  well  for  a  boy!  to  get  such  a  complimentary 
letter  from  the  Department  Commander  one  month,  and 
to  fall  out  with  him  the  next  was  a  good  way  to  keep 
the  Government  in  mind  that  there  was,  in  their  employ, 
such  a  man  as  Tom  Horn! 

Nothing  more  was  ever  done  or  said  about  any  of 
that  affair  so  far  as  I  ever  heard,  but  we  lost  no  more 
ponies  by  Mexican  horse  thieves. 


A  VINDICATION.  125 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


Orders  to  _  Report  at  Camp  Apache,  Camp  Verde  and 
Fort  Whipple — Sieber  and  "Sieber's  Boy"  Enjoy  a 
Fine  Trip — General  George  A.  Crook  Supercedes 
General  Wilcox  as  Department  Commander — More 
Depredations — Sieber  and  Horn,  "An  Armed  Force," 
Invade  Mexico — Red-taped,  Long-drawn  Elaborate 
Investigation  —  Governmental  "Censure"  -  —  General 
Crook  Arrives — Big  Indian  Council — United  States- 
Mexican  Treaty — Sieber  and  Horn  Revisit  Tombstone 
— A  Too  Warm  Welcome. 


There  was  nothing  more  doing  until  April,  when 
Sieber  was  ordered  to  bring  me,  come  around  by  Camp 
Apache,  report  to  the  commanding  officer;  to  go  from 
there  to  Camp  Verde,  report  there,  and  then  to  come 
on  to  Fort  Whipple  and  report  to  the  commanding 
officer  there.  We  were  instructed  to  take  all  the  time 
we  wanted,  and  to  look  well  over  the  Reservation,  so 
as  to  be  able  to  report  the  condition  of  affairs  to  the 
commanding  officer  at  Fort  Whipple  on  our  arrival  there. 

We  took  three  horses  apiece  and  struck  out.  It  was 
a  delightful  trip,  and  we  enjoyed  it  to  the  limit. 

When  we  got  out  of  the  White  Mountains  and  out 
among  the  settlers  in  Pleasant  Valley  and  Green  Valley 
and  Strawberry  Valley,  and  on  the  Verde  River,  we  were 
treated  by  the  settlers  to  everything  they  had  to  give 


12G  LIFE  OF  TOM   HORN: 

us,  and  we  lived  fat  and  enjoyed  the  trip  as  I  never 
enjoyed  a  visit  before  nor  since.  Sieber  was  a  great 
favorite  with  all  the  settlers,  and  I  was  called  "Sieber's 
boy,"  so,  for  ourselves,  on  that  trip  all  was  lovely. 

At  Camp  Apache,  when  we  reported  there,  we  were 
just  told  to  go  on,  but  at  Camp  Verde  we  were  told  by 
the  adjutant  to  wait  there  for  further  orders.  We  stayed 
at  Camp  Verde  about  six  weeks,  and  were  then  ordered 
back  to  San  Carlos,  and  to  go  in  a  leisurely  manner  and 
to  keep  a  good  lookout  among  the  settlers  of  the  Tonto 
Basin  to  see  if  any  of  them  had  been  molested  by  the 
Indians  during  the  spring  and  summer. 

Before  we  left  Camp  Verde  we  had  heard  that  Gen 
eral  George  Crook  was  coming  to  take  command  of  the 
Department  of  Arizona.  Sieber  was  glad  of  it,  as  he 
said  Crook  was  a  good  Indian  man. 

We  had  been  waiting  for  a  long  time  to  hear  some 
news  of  the  Chiricahuas,  in  Mexico,  but,  beyond  a  few 
reports  that  they  had  been  raiding  in  Mexico,  we  did  not 
know  anything  of  them.  We  got  back  to  San  Carlos  in 
July,  and,  for  the  first  time  since  the  Chiricahuas  broke 
out,  we  heard  of  them.  A  bunch  of  raiders  had  come 
back  up  from  Mexico,  killed  a  man  close  to  Stein  Peak, 
crossed  over  within  ten  miles  of  Fort  Bowie,  killed  a 
man  and  his  son,  and  stolen  a  lot  of  horses  at  Theo 
White's  Ranch,  then  had  gone  down  through  Rucker 
Mountains  and  into  Mexico  again.  It  was  said  there 
were  about  twenty  or  twenty-five  bucks  in  the  party. 

From  San  Carlos  we  were  ordered  to  Fort  Bowie  as 
fast  as  possible.  We  got  there  two  days  afterward,  and 
went  over  to  Pinery  Canon,  struck  the  trail  and  followed 
it  back  to  the  Mexico  line.  The  Indians  crossed  the  line 


MAJOR-GENERAL  GEORGE  CROOK 


A  VINDICATION.  127 

at  the  Guadaloupe  Canon;  Sieber  and  I  were  alone,  but, 
as  the  Indian  trail  was  three  days  old,  we  had  no  cause 
for  alarm. 

The  Sixth  Cavalry  were  going  to  New  Mexico,  and 
the  Third  Cavalry  were  coming  to  Arizona,  so  rumor 
said;  sure  enough,  that  fall  saw  a  great  change  in  the 
Department.  General  Crook  did  not  show  up  in  person 
till  the  summer  following,  but  he  was  running  things,  so 
it  was  said. 

Sieber  and  I  were  now  kept  at  Fort  Bowie,  and  were 
given  to  understand  that  Bowie  would  be  our  headquar 
ters  from  that  time  on.  We  got  all  our  ponies  together. 
We  had  about  twenty-five  between  us,  and  we  hired  an 
old  Mexican  to  herd  and  look  after  them  for  us  when 
we  would  be  away. 

There  was  no  more  raiding  during  the  fall  and  winter 
of  1881,  but  we  frequently  saw  where  little  bunches  of 
Indians  would  come  up  into  Arizona  from  Mexico,  camp 
a  few  days,  and,  as  there  were  no  settlers  down  there, 
in  these  cases  we  were  not  bothered. 

Early  in  the  spring  of  1882  there  was  a  bunch  of  rene 
gades  from  Mexico  crossed  the  line  at  Dog  Springs,  and 
raided  up  within  two  miles  of  Deming,  New  Mexico; 
from  there  up  on  the  Membres  River  and  over  within 
six  miles  of  Silver  City,  then  down  toward  the  Gila 
settlements.  The  first  man  they  killed  was  at  the  old 
Yorke  Ranch,  across  from  the  Stein  Mountains,  and 
there  they  were  run  into  by  a  bunch  of  cowboys  and 
white  men  who  were  after  them. 

These  boys  struck  the  Indians  just  at  sundown.  The 
Indians  were  led,  some  of  them,  by  a  white  man  named 
Jones,  and  the  cowboys  were  led  by  a  cowboy  named 


128  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

Buck  Tyson.  They  were  trying  to  run  up  behind  the  In 
dians,  as  they  <*ould  not  get  ahead  of  them.  They  did 
finally  overtake  some  of  the  rear  Indians,  and  had  a  lit 
tle  running  scrap.  One  of  the  squaws  had  to  drop  her 
kid,  which  was  eight  or  ten  months  old,  and  the  white 
man,  leader  of  one  of  the  outfits,  picked  it  up — "captured 
it,"  the  cowboys  said.  All  of  the  other  Indians  escaped 
in  the  fast  gathering  darkness;  and  as  the  pursuers' 
horses  were  completely  worn  out  with  the  long  chase 
they  all  turned  back  home. 

Sieber  and  I  struck  the  trail  of  the  renegades  as  they 
went  back  across  the  line.  We  ran  upon  them  at  the 
Hot  Springs,  just  across  the  line.  Sieber  killed  a  buck, 
and  I  ran  up  and  captured  his  squaw.  We  were  alone, 
in  Mexico,  and  as  we  decided  we  must  hold  our  prisoner, 
we  turned  back,  traveled  all  night  and  reached  Camp 
Rucker,  where  we  found  a  bunch  of  soldiers,  and  turned 
our  catch  over  to  them  to  take  to  the  guard  house  at  Fort 
Bowie. 

Sieber  and  I  both  told  the  officers  that  we  captured 
the  squaw  on  the  head  of  the  Guadaloupe  Canon,  in  Ari 
zona;  but  some  of  the  Mexican  guards  found  the  body  of 
the  dead  buck  at  Hot  Springs,  and  found  our  trail  lead 
ing  back  into  the  United  States.  Thereupon  the  Mexican 
Government  again  sent  a  protest  to  the  American  Gov 
ernment  about  "armed  bodies  of  men"  from  the  United 
States  entering  Mexico.  We  swore  up  and  down  when 
we  were  "jacked  up"  about  it  that  it  was  in  the  United 
States  where  we  got  the  squaw  and  killed  the  buck. 

By  the  time  this  thing  came  to  a  head,  the  squaw 
had  been  sent  to  San  Carlos  from  Fort  Bowie,  and  the 
agent  there  asked  her  where  she  was  captured,  and  she 


A  VINDICATION.  129 

said:  "Eight  at  the  Hot  Spring/'  Now,  there  is  only 
one  Hot  Spring  in  that  part  of  the  country,  and  that  is 
in  Mexico. 

Sieber  and  I  were  certainly  "in  the  soup!" 

Captain  Smith  was  in  command  at  Fort  Bowie,  and 
we  were  summoned  from  the  southern  part  of  the  terri 
tory  to  report  at  Bowie  immediately.  The  detachment 
of  men  who  brought  us  the  summons  had  been  looking 
for  us  eight  days,  and  had  started  back  to  Bowie,  when 
we  ran  upon  them,  and  they  gave  Sieber  the  dispatches 
from  the  commanding  officer  at  Bowie.  We  questioned 
the  officers  who  had  the  dispatch,  as  to  what  was  wanted 
with  us,  and  he  said  his  orders  were  to  scour  the  Mexican 
line  till  he  found  us  and  delivered  those  letters,  and  that 
was  all  he  knew.  We  knew  it  was  some  more  of  that 
Hot  Springs  business,  so  we  went  on  in  with  the  sol 
diers. 

When  we  got  in  and  reported  to.  the  commanding  of 
ficer,  he  told  us  to  go  over  and  report  to  the  adjutant. 
We  went  to  the  adjutant's  office  and  sent  an  orderly  to 
tell  the  adjutant  to  come  to  the  office,  which  he  did  im 
mediately.  We  were  called  into  his  office,  and  he  dis 
missed  the  clerk  who  was  there.  He  then  informed  us 
that  he  had  a  very  disagreeable  duty  to  perform.  I  could 
tell  Sieber  was  mad,  for  he  knew  it  was  some  more  of  the 
Mexico  business,  and  we  were  both  tired  of  it. 

The  adjutant  got  out  a  great  elaborate  report  of  a  mil 
itary  investigation  that  had  been  made  by  certain  com 
missioned  officers  of  the  United  States  of  America,  or 
something  about  like  that;  that  this  investigation  was 
instigated  because  of  certain  reports  made  by  certain 
officers  of  the  Mexican  Government;  that  the  Mexican 


130  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  : 

Government  claimed  that  an  armed  body  of  men  from 
the  United  States  of  America  had  crossed  the  interna 
tional  line  between  the  United  States  of  America  and 
Mexico  without  authority;  that  this  was  done  in  viola 
tion  of  some  treaty  or  other,  and  the  Mexican  Govern 
ment  asked  that  such  steps  be  taken  by  the  proper  au 
thorities  of  the  United  States  to  prevent  such  things  in 
the  future. 

"Now,"  said  the  adjutant,  "the  officers  who  are  mak 
ing  this  investigation  have  found  that  you,  Al.  Sieber, 
chief  of  scouts,  and  you,  Tom  Horn,  scout  and  inter 
preter  for  the  Department  of  War  of  these  United  States, 
did,  as  an  armed  body  of  men,  cross  this  so-called  inter 
national  line  between  the  United  States  of  America  and 
the  Republic  of  Mexico,  and  that  you  did  this  without  the 
order  or  sanction  of  the  military  commander  of  this  dis 
trict,  of  which  Fort  Bowie  is  headquarters.  The  order  of 
the  commission  that  made  this  investigation  is,  that  you 
be  censured  for  the  violation.  Gentlemen,"  continued 
the  adjutant,  "that  is  all.  Now,  let's  go  down  to  the 
sutler's  and  get  a  drink,  and  you  will  please  do  me  the 
honor  to  dine  with  me  this  evening  at  7 "o'clock." 

We  gladly  accepted  the  invitation  to  dinner;  went 
down  to  the  sutler  store  and  fixed  up  about  the  drink; 
then  went  and  hunted  up  our  greaser  herder  and  turned 
our  tired  horses  out.  So  ended  the  second  invasion  of 
Mexican  territory  by  "armed  bodies  of  men  from  the 
United  States." 

"What  a  h — 1  of  a  row  those  greasers  keep  kicking 
up!"  was  Sieber's  comment.  "We  are  in  big  luck, 
though,  to  get  out  of  it  so  easily,  because  I  told  General 
Crook  that  we  did  not  go  into  Mexico  at  all,  and  I  guess 


A  VINDICATION.  131 

he  thought  it  was  funny  if  I  did  not  know  where  the  line 
was,  for  I  was  at  the  head  of  the  party  that  made  the 
preliminary  government  survey  through  there." 

From  Bowie,  after  our  "reprimand,"  as  we  called  it, 
we  were  ordered  to  report  at  San  Carlos  as  soon  as  con 
venient.  So,  in  a  few  days  we  went  up  there.  General 
Crook  was  coming  to  San  Carlos,  and  was  going  to  reor 
ganize  everything  in  the  entire  Department. 

We  stayed  at  San  Carlos  a  couple  of  weeks  before 
General  Crook  came  down.  He  came  by  way  of  Camp 
Apache,  and  there  were  about  a  couple  of  thousand  In 
dians  following  him.  We  are  going  to  have  a  big  In 
dian  talk.  And  we  did  have  a  big  Indian  talk,  and  it 
lasted  for  a  week. 

Old  Coaly  and  Suneriano  did  the  interpreting.  Sie- 
ber  and  General  Crook  would  talk  together  all  night,  or 
a  big  part  of  it,  and  then  General  Crook  would  talk  to 
the  Indians  all  day.  General  Crook  wanted  to  enlist 
Indian  scouts  to  go  after  the  Chiricahuas,  and  he  wanted 
the  support  of  the  Indian  chiefs  to  do  so.  The  Indians, 
on  their  part,  wanted  to  be  started  in  the  cattle  business, 
and  they  knew  that  if  they  could  get  General  Crook  in 
terested  he  would  do  it  for  them,  or  take  the  proper  steps 
to  have  it  done.  A  whole  week  it  lasted,  and  then  Gen 
eral  Crook  went  back  to  Whipple,  and  Sieber  and  I  went 
back  to  Bowie. 

General  Crook  was  at  this  time  working  to  get  a 
treaty  fixed  up  between  Mexico  and  the  United  States, 
so  that  we  might  cross  the  Mexican  line  in  pursuit  of 
the  Indians.  It  seemed  as  though  the  matter  had  been 
referred  by  the  Mexican  Government  to  officers  of  the 
Mexican  army  in  the  states  of  Sonora  and  Chihuahua,  in 


132  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

Mexico,  and  that  Colonel  Garcia  had  made  a  strong  pro 
test  to  the  Mexican  Government  against  the  treaty,  say 
ing  that,  as  military  commander  of  the  District  of  Galla- 
jano,  in  the  State  of  Chihuahua,  which  was  the  only  part 
of  the  state  infested  with  renegade  Indians,  was  entirely 
under  his  control,  and  cited  as  a  fact  that  he  had  killed 
two  hundred,  as  he  said,  and  captured  one  hundred  in 
one  fight;  that  he  had  understood  the  American  troops 
had  made  some  slighting  remarks  about  his  engagements 
with  the  Indians  on  that  occasion,  to  the  effect  that  he 
had  let  the  men  all  get  away,  killing  only  women  and 
children.  He  said,  so  Sieber  understood  from  General 
Crook,  that  fully  one-half,  or  more  than  one-half,  of  the 
Indians  killed  by  him  were  grown  men  with  arms  of 
warfare  in  their  hands,  and,  therefore,  he  did  not  con 
sider  there  was  any  need  for  the  Americans  to  come  into 
Mexico.  That  report  of  Colonel  Garcia  had  to  be  gotten 
over  some  way,  and  that  way  was  being  worked  as  fast 
as  the  red  tape  at  Washington,  D.  C.,  would  permit. 

Before  we  left  San  Carlos  we  took  the  squaw  we  had 
captured  at  the  Hot  Springs,  in  Mexico,  out  of  the  cala 
boose  and  gave  her  a  pony,  and  took  her  to  Fort  Bowie, 
and  told  her  to  go  and  find  the  Indians  in  Mexico,  and 
tell  them  to  send  up  some  one  to  talk  to  General  Crook. 

We  lay  around  on  the  border  for  several  months  wait 
ing  for  a  messenger  from  the  hostiles  in  Mexico,  or  from 
our  treaty  with  Mexico.  There  was  nothing  doing,  and 
those  were  dull  days,  indeed. 

Sieber  and  I  went  over  to  Tombstone  and  stayed  a 
week  to  break  the  monotony,  and  we  did  sure  break  it 
to  a  finish!  We  knew  a  great  many  men  in  camp,  and 
everybody  knew  of  us  as  members  of  the  pioneer  party 


A  VINDICATION.  133 

that  located  the  camp.  Well,  that  trip  to  Tombstone  was 
worse  than  any  campaign  we  had  been  on  yet.  Every 
one  of  the  pioneer  party  that  we  met  had  done  well. 
Some  of  them  who  were  in  the  party  did  not  do  well, 
but  we  did  not  see  any  of  them.  Every  one  of  them  in 
sisted  on  buying  us  a  new  suit  of  clothes  and  hats  and 
six  shooters  and  champagne.  Wow!  but  it  was,  as  old 
Ed  Clarke  told  us,  "a  brave  struggle  we  made,"  but  the 
combination  was  too  strong  and  too  swift  for  us.  We 
left  one  morning  about  3  o'clock,  so  as  to  avoid  the  rush. 
We  got  the  city  marshal  to  bring  our  horses  out  behind 
a  place  they  called  the  "Bird  Cage;"  he  came  in  the  cage 
and  called  us  out  "for  a  minute,"  and  we  got  on  our 
horses  and  "hit  the  pike." 

Well,  I  think  I  am  safe  in  saying  that  we  were  drunk, 
and  as  we  were  not  allowed  to  drink  anything  but  cham 
pagne,  for  my  part,  I  did  not  get  steady  for  ten  days. 


134  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Indian  Troubles  Begin  in  Earnest — "Peaches"  and  Horn 
As  "Talk-Carriers" — Geronimo  Would  Have  a  "Peace 
Talk" — General  Crook  Goes  to  Meet  Geronimo — 
Smugglers  Versus  Custom  Guards — "Not  Honest, 
But  Honorable" — Geronimo's  Hostages  and  Camp — 
Horn  Must  Interpret — An  Indian's  Tribute  to  Horn's 
Tutor  (Sieber),  "The  Old  Mad  White  Man,  a  Man  of 
War  and  a  Man  of  Truth." 


The  early  part  of  1883  began  to  start  trouble.  Pee- 
chee,  a  Chiricahua  warrior,  came  in  from  the  hostiles 
in  Mexico,  went  to  an  Indian  camp  up  on  the  San  Carlos 
River,  and  told  the  Indians  in  camp  that  he  wanted  to 
be  taken  by  them  to  the  Agency,  as  he  had  a  big  talk  to 
make. 

These  Indians  took  him  to  the  Agency  as  he  requested, 
and  there  he  said  he  wanted  to  see  General  Crook,  to 
have  a  big  long  medicine  talk  with  him.  The  agent  put 
the  Indian  in  the  guardhouse  and  put  a  close  watch  over 
him,  and  wired  General  Crook  that  this  man  said  he 
was  from  Geronimo's  camp  in  the  Sierra  Madre  in  Mex 
ico  and  had  come  to  see  and  have  a  talk  with  him  (Gen 
eral  Crook). 

The  General  wired  from  Fort  Whipple,  where  he 
was,  that  he  would  start  for  San  Carlos  as  soon  as  he 
could  make  arrangements  to  do  so.  He  also  wired  to 


A  VINDICATION.  135 

Fort  Bowie  for  Sieber  to  meet  him  in  San  Carlos.  Of 
course,  Sieber  and  I  had  heard  of  this  man's  coming  in, 
and  we  knew  that  the  squaw  had  gotten  to  the  hostiles' 
camp  in  Mexico.  I  mean  the  squaw  Sieber  and  I  cap 
tured  at  the  Hot  Spring  and  over  whom  we  got  our,  by 
this  time,  famous  reprimand.  The  officers  at  Fort  Bowie 
were  forever  joking  us  about  our  "invasion  of  Mexico 
with  an  armed  body  of  men"  and  our  consequent  repri 
mand  by  the  investigating  commitee. 

We  knew  that  this  man — who,  in  all  Government  dis 
patches,  was  called  "Peaches" — was  a  messenger  of 
more  "peace."  Geronimo  was  one  of  the  greatest  and 
most  eloquent  talkers  in  the  entire  Indian  tribe,  and 
when  he  sent  in  word  that  he  wanted  to  talk,  he  always 
said  he  wanted  to  talk  "peace."  When  there  was  war  to 
be  made  he  never  had  anything  to  say,  but  just  went 
to  war;  but  he  could  stay  on  the  war  path  only  so  long, 
and  then  he  would  get  all  filled  up  with  talk,  and  he 
would  send  to  the  Government  to  get  some  one  to  talk 
to.  This  is  what  the  rest  of  the  Indians  always  said  of 
him. 

We  went  to  San  Carlos,  and  in  about  a  week  General 
Crook  reached  there  also.  We  got  this  Indian,  Peaches, 
and  took  him  to  General  Crook's  camp,  and  the  prelimi 
nary  part  of  the  big  talk  was  on! 

Peaches  said  that  his  talk  was  all  from  Geronimo 
and  no  one  else;  meaning  that  such  chiefs  as  Ju,  Loco, 
Chihuahua  and  Natchez  were  not  in  the  talk.  He  said 
Geronimo  wanted  to  talk  and  wanted  to  surrender,  and 
come  back  again  to  the  Reservation  and  not  go  on  the 
war-path  any  more.  He  wanted  General  Crook  to  come 
to  Mexico  with  a  good  big  body  of  troops  and  escort 


13()  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

all  the  hostile  Indians  who  wanted  to  come  up  to  the 
San  Carlos  Reservation,  in  case  terms  could  be  agreed 
upon  between  Geronimo  and  General  Crook.  Geronimo 
said  he  knew  that  American  soldiers  could  now  come 
Into  Mexico,  for  he  told  of  the  fight  at  Sierra  Media  and 
on  Carretas  Creek,  where  they  ran  upon  Garcia,  and  he 
knew  we  followed  that  far,  at  that  time.  He  also  knew 
how  Sieber  and  I  alone  struck  the  little  bunch  of  Indians 
at  the  Hot  Spring  and  knew  that  the  Hot  Spring  was 
in  Mexico. 

So  he  said  we  would  not  have  as  an  excuse  that  we 
could  not  cross  the  line  any  more,  as  we  had  crossed  it 
whenever  we  liked.  He  said  that  in  the  talk  Sieber  and 
I  had  with  him  in  the  Terras  Mountains,  three  years 
before,  that  Sieber  had  told  him  it  was  only  a  question 
of  time  when  arrangements  would  be  made  between  the 
American  and  Mexican  Governments  so  that  we  could 
cross,  and  he  knew  those  arrangements  had  been  made 
or  we  would  never  have  crossed  the  line.  Geronimo  said 
he  was  tired  of  the  war  path,  and,  in  fact,  made  the 
same  old  talk  as  in  former  times. 

We  then  turned  the  Indian  loose,  made  arrangements 
for  him  to  get  his  meals  with  the  escort  of  General  Crook 
and  told  him  to  be  on  hand  again  in  the  morning. 

Sieber  and  General  Crook  then  held  a  long  talk  by 
themselves  and  they  did  not  know  what  to  do  under  the 
circumstances.  Negotiations  were  on  foot  to  bring  about 
the  treaty  to  allow  us  to  enter  Mexico,  but  General 
Crook  had  not  heard  anything  concerning  them  and  did 
not  know  what  progress  had  been  made  in  the  matter. 
The  General  said  he  would  wire  Washington  and  see 
what  he  could  learn.  This  he  did,  and  the  next  day  got 


A  VINDICATION.  137 

a  reply  and  an  order  to  come  to  Washington  imme 
diately. 

We  concluded  to  turn  the  Indian  loose  for  good,  give 
him  a  horse  and  some  grub,  and  we  made  arrangements 
for  me  to  meet  him  in  two  moons  at  a  place  in  the  San 
Luis  Mountains,  Mexico.  General  Crook  said  he  would 
give  Geronimo  his  answer  at  that  time. 

The  Indian  was  given  a  horse,  and  Sieber  and  I  took 
him  to  the  Mexico  line  and  turned  him  loose;  at  least, 
there  we  left  him,  as  he  had  been  loose  all  the  time. 
General  Crook  went  to  Washington,  and  when  he  re 
turned  Sieber  and  I  were  again  summoned  to  meet  him, 
but  this  time  he  came  to  Fort  Bowie. 

The  General  sent  me  to  meet  the  Indian  at  the  ap 
pointed  time,  and  I  found  him  with  a  squaw  at  the  place 
where  he  said  he  would  meet  me.  I  told  him  General 
Crook  wanted  him  to  come  with  me  to  Fort  Bowie  to 
get  his  message  from  the  General  in  person. 

Peaches  then  took  his  woman  off  to  one  side,  and  I 
guess  he  told  her  what  to  say  to  Geronimo.  Anyhow, 
he  soon  came  back  to  me;  the  squaw  got  on  her  pony 
and  pulled  out  south.  Peaches  and  I  got  on  our  horses 
and  struck  out  for  Fort  Bowie. 

General  Crook  was  waiting  for  us  anxiously,  and  was 
greatly  relieved  when  we  came  riding  into  the  fort.  We 
had  a  talk  with  him  that  same  night.  General  Crook 
told  him  that  he  must  go  and  tell  Geronimo  that  he, 
the  General,  would  get  together  an  outfit  big  enough  to 
furnish  an  escort  for  all  the  Indians  who  wanted  to  come 
to  the  Reservation,  and  for  Peaches  to  go  and  tell  Geron 
imo  this,  and  that  our  command  would  go  directly  to 
a  place  in  the  Sierra  Madre  called  Rio  Viejo,  and  for 


138  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  I 

a  guide  to  meet  us  on  the  Rio  Viejo  to  take  us  to  Geron- 
imo,  wherever  he  happened  to  be.  Also  sent  word  he 
wanted  to  take  all  the  Chiricahuas. 

The  Indian  was  again  turned  over  to  me  to  take  back 
to  the  Mexican  line,  which  I  did.  When  this  Indian, 
Peaches,  and  I  were  together  he  would  tell  me  anything 
I  asked  him  and  we  got  to  be  great  friends.  We  under 
stood  that  as  far  as  we  were  personally  concerned,  that 
we  did  not  amount  to  much,  and  at  the  same  time  we 
knew  that  we  did  amount  to  something  as  'Talk  car 
riers,"  as  he  called  it. 

I  left  the  Indian  at  the  head  of  the  Guadaloupe  Canon 
and  returned  to  Fort  Bowie.  There  I  found  great  prep 
arations  being  made  for  our  expedition  into  Mexico,  but 
no  one  knew  where  we  were  going  to.  Many  soldiers  and 
officers  had  seen  the  Indian  and  me  going  and  coming, 
but  they  did  not  know  who  nor  what  he  was.  I  think  the 
general  supposition  was  that  the  Indian  and  I  were  spy 
ing  on  the  Chiricahuas,  and  that  we  were  going  to 
Mexico  to  surprise  the  Chiricahuas.  I  told  all  of  them 
that  I  did  not  know  where  we  were  going  and  I  did  not 
know  if  I  would  go  along  or  not,  and  gave  them  answers 
of  all  kinds  except  the  truth. 

Some  report  had  come  out  in  the  newspapers  that 
there  had  been  some  kind  of  an  agreement  entered  into 
between  certain  ministers  of  the  United  States  and 
Mexico.  The  article  said  that  negotiations  were  insti 
tuted  to  get  a  regular  treaty,  but  that  the  treaty  could 
not  be  brought  about  and  that  in  place  of  a  treaty  this 
was  simply  an  agreement.  Putting  together  what  they 
knew  and  what  they  could  guess  at,  they  knew  we  were 
going  to  Mexico,  but  that  is  all  they  did  know,  and  they 


A  VINDICATION.  139 

were  not  sure  we  were  going  there.  All  cavalry,  of 
which  I  think  there  were  three  troops,  were  ordered  to 
take  rations  for  sixty  days.  All  the  mules  in  the  Quar 
termaster's  Department  were  turned  into  pack  mules, 
and  a  couple  of  pack  trains  also  came  in  from  New 
Mexico. 

All  the  scouts  were  brought  from  New  Mexico  and  a 
good  many  Apache  scouts  were  enlisted.  After  all  the 
transportation  had  been  put  in  shape,  the  packers  weir 
laughing  to  think  that  they  would  not  have  scarcely  any 
load. 

The  evening  before  we  were  to  pull  out,  the  Quarter 
master  sent  down  extra  flour  and  sugar  enough  to  load 
all  the  pack  mules  down  to  the  guards.  The  extra  flour 
and  sugar  were  for  the  hostiles  we  were  going  to  meet. 

At  last  we  got  under  way  and  we  headed  direct  for 
Mexico.  It  was  amusing  to  hear  the  different  surmises 
as  to  what  we  were  going  to  do  and  as  to  where  we  were 
going.  The  troops  we  had  were  of  the  Third  Cavalry. 
Lieutenant  Gatewood  of  the  Sixth  Cavalry,  was  with  us, 
and  in  command  of  the  Apache  scouts.  Captain  Emmet 
Crawford  of  the  Third  Cavalry,  was  in  command  of  the 
cavalry  escort.  We  had  five  pack  trains  and  about  fifty 
Apache  scouts. 

We  went  down  past  what  we  now  called  Tupper's 
Battle  Ground,  at  the  Sierra  Media,  and  on  to  where 
Colonel  Garcia  had  his  famous  fight,  and  then  we  crossed 
the  Sierra  Madre  to  get  on  the  Yaqui  River  slope  and 
over  through  Bavispe,  a  good  big  town,  kept  up  by  the 
guards  of  the  custom  department.  (This  town,  I  will  say 
now,  was  shaken  down  to  its  very  foundation  by  earth 
quakes  in  1887). 


140  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

On  we  went,  past  the  town  of  Baserac,  only  two 
leagues  from  Bavispe,  and  the  earthquake  that  razed  Ba- 
vispe  to  the  ground  only  cracked  one  adobe  wall  in  Ba 
serac.  All  residents  of  this  part  of  Mexico  at  that  time 
who  were  not  smugglers,  belonged  to  the  custom  house 
guards  in  some  capacity  or  other,  and  there  was  the 
hardest  of  feeling  between  the  two  classes.  There  was 
always  more  or  less  war  between  the  guards  and  the 
civilians,  (or  smugglers,  to  use  the  correct  term.)  Smug 
gling  was  a  great  business  in  those  times.  All  the  smug 
gling  to  amount  to  anything  was  in  the  shape  of  over 
alls,  women's  shoes,  buttons,  needles,  thread  and  little 
trinkets.  The  difference  in  the  price  of  the  things  in  the 
United  States  and  Mexico  was  about  as  follows:  Over 
alls  costing  47  cents  to  50  cents  a  pair  in  Deming.  or 
Silver  City,  New  Mexico,  sold  in  Old  Mexico  for  $2.50. 
Ladies'  shoes  that  cost  f  1.50  a  pair,  sold  for  f 5.00.  But 
tons  costing  20  cents  a  gross  sold  for  25  cents  per  dozen. 

From  this  it  will  be  seen  that  there  was  big  money  in 
the  business. 

All  smugglers  were  of  necessity,  brave,  daring  fellows, 
who  had  to  bring  their  cargoes  of  smuggled  goods  right 
in  under  the  very  nose  of  the  custom  guard,  and  th^re 
was  many  a  fierce  fight  between  them;  for  a  smuggler 
would  as  soon  die  as  lose  his  cargo,  and  would  sooner 
die  than  loose  a  mule.  (All  smuggling  was  done  on  pack 
mules.) 

Thus,  the  residents  of  Bavispe  were  all  guards  or  else 
belonged  to  the  custom  service  in  some  other  capacity, 
and  all  of  the  residents  of  Beserac  all  said,  when  the 
earthquake  shook  down  Bavispe  that  it  was  the  wrath  of 
God  being  inflicted  upon  the  guards.  And  as  only  one 


A  VINDICATION.  141 

house  in  Baserac  was  cracked,  and  that  man  was  a 
brother-in-law  to  one  of  the  guards,  and  supposed  to  be 
in  sympathy  with  the  guards,  it  made  them  all  the  surer 
that  smuggling  was  far  more  legitimate  than  belonging 
to  the  guard  service. 

These  fellows  were  a  good  lot  of  citizens,  so  far  r.s 
honorable  conduct  went.  In  fact,  a  common  saying 
among  them  was:  "We  are  not  supposed  to  be  honest, 
but  we  are  honorable." 

From  there  we  kept  on  down  to  Bacadebichi  and  over 
by  Nacori,  (where  we  buried  Captain  Crawford  three 
years  later,  as  I  will  relate  later  on.)  There  we  left  the 
Mexican  settlements  and  turned  into  the  Sierra  Madre 
proper  and  crossed  over  to  the  Rio  Viejo.  There  the 
command  was  camped  for  a  couple  of  days  till  I  could 
go  up  to  the  head  of  the  river  and  see  if  I  could  find  our 
man  to  guide  us  to  the  hostile  camp. 

I  looked  two  days  for  my  man  before  I  could  run  on 
him,  and  then  I  met  him  coming  down  the  Rio  Viejo. 
We  returned  to  our  camp  and  I  found  General  Crook 
very  uneasy  for  fear  I  had  been  taken  in  by  the  Indians. 

Next  morning  we  started  for  the  hostile  camp,  guided 
by  Peaches,  who  said  it  would  take  us  five  days  more 
to  get  there.  We  kept  out  a  very  careful  line  of  guards 
for  the  pack  trains  and  soldiers.  General  Crook  said 
he  had  no  fear  of  treachery,  but  it  was  well  to  be  careful. 

It  was  a  lovely  country  we  were  passing  through. 
Limes  grew  wild  most  everywhere.  On  the  second  day 
from  the  camp  on  Rio  Viejo  we  camped  on  a  stream  that 
our  guide  said  was  called  "the  stream  with  the  old 
houses  on  it,"  and  for  miles  up  and  down  the  creek  were 
peach  trees  by  the  thousand,  all  of  them  loaded  down 


142  LIFE   OF    TOM    HORN! 

with  fruit.  Some  of  the  peaches  were  as  ripe  as  could 
be  without  rotting,  but  more  of  them  were  very  green. 
The  guide  said  there  were  ripe  peaches  there  five  months 
in  the  year.  General  Crook  said  we  would  name  this 
place  "The  Peach  Orchard. "  There  were  many  more 
streams  in  that  part  of  the  country  with  peaches  on 
them,  but  none  where  there  were  so  many  as  here.  There 
were  lots  of  signs  of  Indians,  and  our  guide  said  the 
whole  outfit  of  hostiles  had  just  left  that  part  of  the 
country. 

The  night  before  we  got  to  the  camp  of  Geronimo  we 
were  joined  by  about  twenty  Indians;  young  men  and 
young  women.  One  of  them,  who  was  in  command  of 
them,  apparently,  said  that  they  were  sent  by  Geronimo 
as  a  hostage,  and  that  they  should  remain  with  us  till 
after  our  big  talk.  They  requested  to  be  put  under 
guard,  but  they  were  told  by  General  Crook  just  to  stay 
where  Captain  Crawford  ordered  them  to  stay. 

We  found  Geronimo  camped  in  one  of  the  most  lovely 
places  one  could  imagine.  He  sent  several  men  to  show 
us  where  to  camp,  but  we  picked  a  camp  to  suit  our 
selves. 

Geronimo,  Ju,  and  old  Loco  came  during  the  evening 
and  paid  their  respects  to  General  Crook  and  arranged 
for  a  big  talk  on  the  following  morning. 

A  big  talk  it  was,  sure  enough.  General  Crook  had 
for  his  interpreters  two  Mexicans  named  Antonio  Bias 
and  Montoyo.  Geronimo  started  the  war  talk  by  saying 
that  these  interpreters  were  of  Mexican  blood  and  that 
no  Mexican  was  a  man  of  word,  meaning  they  could  not 
speak  true.  He  said  that  he  wanted  only  peace  and  har 
mony  in  the  big  talk  that  was  coming  off,  and  that  there 


A  VINDICATION.  143 

would  be  many  days  of  it,  and  that  some  of  it  would 
be  of  such  a  nature  that  only  Geronimo  and  General 
Crook  should  know,  and  it  would  necessarily  have  to  go 
through  the  mouth  of  an  interpreter,  and  he  much  pre 
ferred  that  I  should  be  the  one  to  do  the  interpreting. 
He  then  went  on  and  told  of  all  the  preliminary  work 
that  led  up  to  this  meeting,  the  part  I  had  taken  in  all 
of  it,  and  of  the  confidence  the  Government  must  have 
in  me  to  have  me  attempt  such  an  undertaking;  that 
the  "old  mad  white  man"  (meaning  Sieber)  had  raised 
and  trained  me;  that  he  knew  Sieber  to  be  a  man  of 
war  and  a  man  of  truth,  a  man  who  could  always  be 
found  in  a  peace  council  or  leading  a  war  party,  and 
that  I,  as  a  pupil  of  such  a  man,  must  be  a  good  man 
and  a  truthful  one,  and  that  I  had  come  to  his  camp 
with  Sieber  on  a  former  occasion  to  see  and  talk  to  him ; 
and  he  said  Antonio  Bias  was  of  the  Apaches  who  were 
not  truthful,  and  he  finally  wound  up  his  harangue  by 
saying  that  I  was  the  only  one  who  could  do  the  inter 
preting. 

This  was  not  what  we  had  figured  on,  for  General 
Crook  had  instructed  me  this  way:  When  the  talk  got 
started,  I  was  to  circulate  around  among  the  women 
and  warriors  who  were  not  in  the  council  and  use  my 
influence  to  get  all  of  them  to  go  to  the  ^Reservation.  We 
knew  that  old  Geronimo  would  talk  to  General  Crook  all 
day  and  to  his  own  people  all  night,  and  we  knew  also 
that  Geronimo  was  popular  as  a  chief,  because,  while 
he  would  make  a  big  bluff  of  a  talk,  that  he  would  wind 
up  by  doing  as  the  majority  of  the  most  influential  In 
dians  should  decide. 


144  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

In  other  words,  some  of  the  Indians  did  as  they 
pleased,  regardless  of  Geronimo  or  any  one  else,  and  on 
our  side  there  were  certain  things  that  General  Crook 
wanted  the  Indians  to  know,  and  he  did  not  want  to 
talk  it  to  them  or  to  promise  it  to  them  in  council,  and 
my  duty  was  to  let  the  Indians  know  these  things.  We 
talked  these  things  over  and  our  councillor,  Sieber,  said 
that  old  Geronimo  was  onto  our  job,  and  that  he  did 
not  want  me  going  around  among  the  younger  men  and 
women  to  do  any  talking  so  as  to  influence  them  to  go 
back  with  us;  but  as  Geronimo  had  requested  that  I  do 
the  interpreting,  the  only  thing  that  General  Crook 
could  then  do  was  to  say  that  Antonio  was  an  old  man 
in  council  and  had  been  engaged  in  interpreting  for 
twenty-five  years;  that  I  was  a  young  man  and  not  as 
experienced  in  such  things  as  wras  Antonio  and  for  that 
reason  he  had  brought  Antonio  to  do  the  interpreting. 
General  Crook  also  told  Geronimo  that  I  was  being 
raised  by  Sieber  as  a  warrior  and  that  a  warrior  was 
not  supposed  to  be  an  interpreter. 

Geronimo  replied  that  Sieber  was  the  one  white  man 
he  knew  who  always  represented  the  Government.  He 
said:  "Sibi  is  always  with  a  Government  council  or 
Government  war  party.  White  soldiers  come  and  go, 
and  I  have  seen  many  of  them  for  many  years  come  and 
go,  but  Sibi,  the  mad  white  man,  is  always  here."  He 
added  that  "Sibi"  was  not  a  good  man  to  be  with,  as 
he  was  a  man  of  iron  and  nothing  would  turn  him,  and 
that  he  did  not  care  to  talk,  but  that  his  words  were  all 
from  his  heart;  that  there  was  no  room  in  his  heart  for 
anything  that  he  did  not  think  was  right,  that  his  words 
were  as  wise  as  those  of  any  chief,  white  or  red;  that 


A  VINDICATION.  145 

he  was  respected  by  the  Indians,  though  as  iron  he  was, 
and  that  being  raised  by  him  was  of  itself  a  guarantee 
of  faithfulness  in  war  or  in  council. 

I  was  all  puffed  up  by  the  time  Geronimo  and  General 
Crook  got  through  discussing  me.  Antonio  was  then 
set  aside  and  I  took  the  interpreter's  place. 


146  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  : 


CHAPTER  XV. 


Synopsis  of  General  Crook's  Speech  in  Geronimo's  Coun 
cil — "It  must  be  War  or  Peace!" — Deep  Impression 
Made  by  General  Crook — What  Will  Geronimo  Do? — 
Sieber  and  Horn  Summoned  as  Advisers  to  the  Tribe 
Council;  the  Only  White  Men  Admitted— "Take  Your 
Knife,  Tom;  Stand  While  You  Interpret;  Forget  That 
You  May  Not  Live  One  Minute,  and  Think  Only  of 
the  Talk"— The  War  Chief  Speaks— Etiquette  of  an 
Indian  Council — The  Eloquent  Silence  of  the  Red 
Man — Sieber's  Advice,  "Words  of  Wisdom  and 
Truth." 

General  Crook  was  the  first  man  to  do  any  talking, 
as  he  had  taken  the  first  steps  to  bring  about  this  talk. 

He  told  Geronimo  that  eleven  years  before,  when  he 
was  in  command  of  the  Department,  he  had  left  all  the 
Indians  on  the  Reservation  at  peace,  drawing  their  ra 
tions  and  seemingly  content;  that  when  he  left  he  had 
no  idea  that  any  of  the  Indians  would  ever  go  on  the  war 
path  again.  Then  he  had  been  called  away  by  his  Gov 
ernment  to  go  to  another  part  of  the  country,  and  that 
from  time  to  time  he  had  heard  of  the  Apache  outbreaks 
as  they  occurred.  He  said  he  did  not  know  what  made 
men  with  as  much  sense  and  judgment  as  Geronimo  do 
such  things,  and  leave  a  place  where  everything  was 
given  them  that  was  given  to  the  white  soldiers.  He 
knew  that  they  had  a  grievance  of  some  kind,  and  that 


A  VINDICATION.  147 

he  wanted  to  hear  what  it  was,  and  he  wanted  to  adjust 
the  grievance  in  any  way  that  he  could  that  would  not 
hurt  Geronimo  or  the  people  with  him,  and  that  before 
he  left  the  Sierra  Madres  he  wanted  to  get  Geronimo  and 
every  Indian  in  the  mountains  to  go  back  with  him,  and 
he  wanted  the  influence  of  Geronimo  to  help  him  do  this; 
that  the  time  for  war  was  past,  and  it  was  now  time  to 
leave  the  war  path  and  its  hardships  and  go  and  settle 
down  on  the  Reservation.  He  told  Geronimo  that  the 
Chiricahuas  had  committed  many  depredations  which 
laid  them  liable  to  arrest  and  prosecution  by  the  Govern 
ment,  but  that  if  they  all  went  back  that  he  would  see 
that  none  of  them  were  taken  away  and  tried  by  the 
civil  courts,  and  that  if  they  would  go  back  to  the  Reser 
vation  and  be  counted  regularly  and  draw  their  rations 
he  would  locate  them  on  any  part  of  the  Reservation 
(that  was  not  occupied  by  any  other  Indians)  that  Geron 
imo  might  choose. 

"There  is  always  more  or  less  trouble  in  a  big  Indian 
camp,"  continued  General  Crook,  "and  I  will  make  sol 
diers  of  your  men  to  keep  peace  in  the  camp.  I  will  keep 
a  company  of  twenty-five  men  all  the  time,  that  may  be 
selected  by  the  long-nosed,  ugly  soldier."  (Lieutenant 
Gatewood  was  so  called.  Gatewood  was,  perhaps,  the 
homliest  man  in  the  service).  "This  officer  will  have  no 
other  duty  than  to  look  after  you  and  your  interests,  and 
to  adjust  your  troubles.  He  will  see  that  you  get  your 
rations  and  clothing,  and  everything  that  you  are  en 
titled  to  by  the  Government.  Now,  you  know  what  it 
is  that  the  Government  has  done,  and  will  do,  and  all 
that  it  can  do  I  promise  to  do  for  you. 


148  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  I 

"I  have  just  came  back  from  the  place  called  Wash 
ington,  which,  you  know,  is  the  head  of  our  Government, 
and  there  I  met  officers  high  in  rank  belonging  to  the 
Mexican  Government,  and  I  made  arrangements  with 
them  to  permit  of  my  crossing  the  line  in  pursuit  of  Indi 
ans  committing  depredations  in  the  United  States.  I 
have  come  to  you  as  a  brother  and  as  a  personal  friend, 
to  tell  you  all  this  and  to  conduct  any  and  all  who  want 
to  go  back  in  safety.  When  I  leave  here,  I  must  be  in 
formed  by  you  if  you  want  war  or  if  you  want  peace. 

"Formerly  conditions  were  such  that  we  could  only 
pursue  renegade  Indians  as  far  as  the  Mexico  line.  Now 
I  can  follow  them  to  the  end  of  the  earth.  If  you  do  not 
go  back  now,  and  if  I  can  not  persuade  you  to  go  back, 
then  must  I  say  'War!'  I  am  an  old  man,  and  would  be 
at  peace  with  all  the  world,  but  my  people  living  in  New 
Mexico  and  Arizona  must  have  protection,  and  I  am 
there  to  protect  them.  I  could  not  do  so  while  our  laws 
would  not  allow  me  to  cross  the  Mexico  line  with  my 
soldiers.  Your  young  men  could  live  here  in  the  Sierra 
Madres  and  raid  up  into  our  country,  and  it  was  seldom 
we  could  run  onto  them  while  up  there. 

"The  Chiricahuas  are  very  clever,  and  can  easily 
dodge  the  cavalry  when  they  have  only  to  dodge  them 
long  enough  to  get  back  across  the  line  of  Mexico;  but 
from  now  on,  Mexico  will  not  protect  you.  I  am  telling 
you  all  this  so  that  you  will  know  how  we  are  fixed,  and 
so  you  will  know  what  a  refusal  to  go  with  me  means. 
It  means  war,  and  if  you  do  not  go  with  me  now  peace 
ably,  I  will  return  as  I  came  to  this  country,  but  I  will 
go  with  a  heavy  heart.  I  will  then  organize  a  war 
party  and  send  it  to  this  country  and  will  make  several 


A  VINDICATION.  149 

divisions  of  it,  so  as  to  be  able  to  operate  all  over  the 
mountains  at  once.  Then  will  the  Chiricahuas  be 
doomed,  and  I,  an  old  man,  will  go  with  a  heavy  heart 
to  my  grave,  for  the  war  will  be  long  and  bitter,  and  my 
days  will  be  passed  in  restlessness,  and  my  nights  with 
out  sleep.  I  can  not  go  out  myself,  for  the  hardships 
will  be  too  great  for  me,  so  I  will  have  to  remain  at 
home;  but,  as  I  said,  without  rest  or  sleep.  Geronimo, 
you  will  go  from  this  council  to  a  council  of  your  own 
people,  and  you  may  think  that  I  have  spoken  too  se 
verely  to  you.  I  can  talk  to  you  only  as  I  have,  for 
about  this  talk  there  must  be  no  misunderstanding.  This 
is  a  council  of  great  importance  to  me,  as  I  could  not  be 
gin  a  war  on  you  without  giving  you  a  chance  for  peace. 
I  will  listen  to  what  you  have  to  say,  to-morrow." 

That  ended  the  big  talk  for  this  day.  Of  course  there 
was  a  great  deal  more  talk  than  I  have  written  down 
here,  but  this  was  all  there  was  said  of  much  importance. 

There  must  have  been  two  hundred  warriors  in  the 
council,  and  every  one  of  them  got  up  and  went  back  to 
their  camp  as  silent  as  shadows.  General  Crook's  talk 
had  made  a  deep  impression  on  them.  General  Crook 
himself  was  very  grave,  and  went  to  his  tent  and  stayed 
out  of  sight  of  every  one.  All  the  officers  that  heard 
the  talk  went  back  to  their  camps  and  began  to  make 
preparations  for  a  fight.  They  thought  that  Geronimo 
would  resent  such  talk  as  the  general  made  to  them. 
Sieber  also  went  off  to  one  side  of  a  hill  and  sat  by  him 
self.  Anyone  who  knew  Sieber  knew  that  he  wanted 
to  be  alone. 

We  had  started  the  talk  very  early  in  the  morning, 
and  it  was  now  close  to  noon.  The  whole  camp  looked 


1 50  LIFE  OF   TOM    HOKN  : 

more  like  a  funeral  party  than  it  did  like  a  war  party  or 
peace  commission. 

Micky  Free  came  up  to  me  and  said:  "Tom,  what  do 
you  think  Geronimo  will  do?"  Of  course,  I  could  only 
guess,  and  I  guessed  that  we  would  take  a  big  lot  of  ren 
egades  to  the  Reservation,  but  I  knew  there  were  war 
riors  with  Geronimo  that  Geronimo  himself  could  not 
control,  and  1  did  not  think  they  would  return  with  us 
to  live  in  peace  on  the  Reservation,  for  they  were  not 
men  of  peace.  I  asked  Micky  how  some  of  the  bad  ones, 
whom  each  of  us  knew  personally,  could  go  and  live  iu 
peace.  "There,"  said  I,  "is  Mas-say.  How  can  you  ex 
pect  a  man  like  him  to  give  a  serious  thought  to  peace? 
Mas-say  loves  the  war  path,  and  many  of  the  more  rest 
less  ones  will  follow  him.  They  are,  every  one  of  them 
who  follows  such  a  devil  as  Mas-say,  men  who  want  the 
excitement  of  the  war  path,  and  for  peace  they  care  not." 

Micky  asked  me  if  I  had  known  beforehand  that 
General  Crook  wras  going  to  make  such  a  talk  to  the  ren 
egades  as  he  had  just  made.  I  told  him  I  certainly  did 
not  know  what  General  Crook  intended  to  say  until  he 
said  it.  "Then  why  did  you  go  and  put  on  your  big 
white-handled  six-shooter  before  you  went  into  the  coun 
cil?"  asked  Micky.  I  told  him  I  did  so  because  Sieber 
had  told  me  to. 

"I  sawr  Sieber  had  his  pistol,  too,"  continued  Micky, 
"I  could  see  it  where  it  pushed  up  his  hunting  shirt.  And 
when  it  came  around  to  the  part  of  the  talk  where  Gen 
eral  Crook  said:  'War  or  peace,  I  will  have/  I  saw  Sieber 
slip  his  hand  up  under  his  shirt  and  put  it  on  his  pistol. 
It  would  have  been  a  sad  day  for  Geronimo  if  he  had 
made  any  kick  at  that  point,  for  it  would  have  meant  a 


A  VINDICATION.  151 

general  row  right  there.  I  could  see  Sieber  was  watching 
Geronimo  like  a  hawk.  Look  up  there.  Do  you  see  him 
now?"  asked  Micky,  "When  Sieber  goes  off  by  himself 
like  that  he  knows  that  there  may  be  serious  trouble,  and 
Sieber  can  tell  when  trouble  is  liable  to  come.  He  can 
smell  it  as  easy  as  I  can  smell  smoke.  Well,  we  will  just 
watch  him,  and  do  as  he  does.  He  is  never  wrong  and  he 
won't  be  wrong  this  time." 

Micky  could  not  keep  still,  and  I  did  not  feel  very 
easy  myself. 

All  the  soldiers  were  close  to  camp  and  close  to  their 
guns.  All  the  renegades  were  as  silent  as  mutes.  Not 
a  dog  nor  a  child  in  the  entire  camp  was  making  any 
noise.  We  could  not  visit  any  one  for  every  one  seemed 
to  want  to  tend  to  his  own  business. 

Presently  Sieber  called  to  us  to  come  up  to  where  he 
was  and  we  got  our  rifles  and  went  up  there.  Sieber  be 
gan  to  langh  at  us,  and  said  we  were  standing  around 
like  a  couple  of  lost  squaws.  He  said  we  need  not  look 
so  solemn  as  the  talk  the  General  made  was  all  right,  and 
he  felt  sure  that  the  worst  of  the  campaign  was  over; 
that  when  the  renegades  did  nothing  in  the  first  twenty 
minutes  after  the  council  was  over  there  would  be  no 
danger  from  them  afterward. 

Wre  could  see  many  Indians  gathering  around  Ge 
ronimo  and  he  stood  talking  to  them.  We  could  see  his 
gestures,  and  could  hear  the  hum  of  his  voice,  but  could 
not  distinguish  a  word  he  said.  None  of  our  party  were 
allowed  in  Geronimo's  council.  We  watched  them  for  a 
long  time  and  finally  saw  him  turn  and  point  at  us. 
Sieber  said  to  me  that  he  and  I  would  be  sent  for  by  Ge 
ronimo  before  night.  "And  if  you  are  not  with  me  when 


152  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  : 

he  sends,  you  must  come  and  leave  your  pistol  and  take 
only  your  knife,"  said  Sieber. 

Along  in  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  after  I  had  had 
something  to  eat,  a  small  girl  came  to  me  and  said  Sieber 
would  talk  with  me.  I  went  up  to  his  camp,  and  he  said : 
"Well,  Tom,  the  summons  has  come.  We  are  to  go  to  Ge- 
ronimo.  Now  you  watch  me  all  the  time,  and  that  will 
keep  your  nerves  steady.  You  tell  Geronimo  for  me, 
exactly  as  I  tell  you  to  tell  him,  when  I  am  asked  to  talk. 
Stand  while  you  are  talking,  forget  that  you  may  not  live 
one  more  minute  and  think  only  of  the  talk.  No  one  but 
Geronimo  knows  what  he  will  say  to  us  for  this  is  a  very 
critical  period,  and  anything  of  the  least  importance  may 
start  the  war  or  may  prevent  it.  So  don't  you  say  any 
thing  at  all  except  as  I  tell  you  to  say  it." 

We  then  went  over  to  Geronimo's  council.  I  had  felt 
a  little  nervous  ever  since  General  Crook's  council  broke 
up,  but  now  that  we  were  stepping  right  into  the  lion's 
jaws,  I  did  not  feel  near  so  shaky.  As  we  were  getting 
up  close  to  the  council  Sieber  looked  at  me  and  smiled, 
asked  me  how  I  felt.  I  told  him  I  was  not  much  scared. 

The  first  time  Sieber  and  I  had  gone  into  Geronimo's 
ramp,  entirely  alone  in  the  Terras  Mountains,  I  was  not 
scared  or  shaky  at  all,  and  the  Indians  all  seemed  not  to 
pay  much  attention  to  us,  but  it  was  the  actions  of  the 
Indians  here  that  made  one  feel  the  gravity  of  the  situa 
tion.  Not  a  smile  on  the  face  of  any  one,  and,  in  place 
of  not  being  noticed  as  in  the  Terras  Mountains,  here 
every  Indian  of  the  two  hundred  was  looking  at  us  and 
watching  our  eyes  and  faces  as  though  they  would  read 
our  very  thoughts. 


A  VINDICATION.  153 

A  place  was  made  for  Sieber  on  a  blanket  and  he  was 
motioned  to  sit  down.  Then  everybody  sat  but  me.  I  was 
left  standing  as  was  my  place  to  be,  for  there  is  etiquette 
in  a  hostile  Indian  camp  just  as  there  is  in  a  ball  room 
of  the  "Four  Hundred"  in  New  York. 

Who  was  it  that  said  the  silence  of  an  Indian  chief 
is  eloquent?  It  might  have  been  on  this  occasion,  but  if 
it  was  I  did  not  appreciate  the  eloquence  of  it.  I  am 
sure  as  I  stood  there  amid  that  silent  eloquence  I  was  the 
most  uncomfortable  man  in  Mexico.  Oh,  how  I  did  want 
some  one  to  say  something.  At  last,  Sieber  said  to  Ge- 
ronimo: 

"You  would  talk  with  me?" 

"Yes,"  said  Geroniino,  "I  would  talk  with  you  and  I 
have  asked  you  into  my  council  to  give  me  advice  and  to 
talk  with  you,  not  as  a  warrior  of  one  nation  talks  to  a 
warrior  of  another  nation,  but  as  two  warriors  talk  as 
friends  and  brothers  when  a  question  of  gravest  im 
portance  confronts  them  in  their  respective  positions. 
You  heard  the  words  of  General  Crook.  You  may  have 
known  what  he  would  say  before  he  came  here.  They 
were  words  that  make  a  man  feel  sad  to  hear  and  I  know 
that  it  made  General  Crook  feel  bad  to  say  them.  I  had 
no  idea  he  would  speak  so  straight,  and  I  can  not  now 
realize  that  such  words  have  been  spoken.  General 
Crook  said  that  I  must  say  if  it  is  to  be  peace  or  if  it  is 
to  be  war. 

"When  a  man  like  General  Crook  says  that  to  a  man 
like  me,  it  does  not  leave  anything  for  me  to  do  but  say 
"war"  or  "peace." 

"General  Crook  knows  what  war  is,  and  he  is  a  man 
of  peace.  I,  Geroniino,  the  war  chief  of  the  Chiricahua 


154  LIFE   OF   TOM   HORN: 

Apaches,  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  feel  that  I  am  get 
ting  cornered.  True,  only  the  men  belonging  to  my  tribe 
know  these  mountains  well,  but  with  a  man  like  you,  a 
man  of  iron,  as  war  chief  of  the  white  scouts,  you  will 
soon  know  these  mountains  as  does  the  wolf.  Yours  is 
an  Indian's  knowledge,  with  the  brains  of  the  white  man. 
You  are  without  fear,  and,  although  an  old  man  you  have 
never  felt  yourself  tired.  Sieber,  man  of  war,  man  of 
peace,  man  of  council,  tell  me  what  you  think  of  my  po 
sition." 

Sieber  rose  and  said : 

"Geronimo,  I  can  not  answer  the  questions  you  have 
asked  me  in  one  minute.  I  will  go  to  my  camp  and  think 
well  over  them  and  will  come  again  to-night  and  you  and 
I  will  talk  this  over.  It  will  not  be  well  for  these  men 
to  be  present  when  I  talk  to  you  and  when  I  do  talk  it 
will  not  be  General  Crook  nor  the  Government  that  talks, 
it  will  be  myself  and  my  advice  will  be  from  no  mouth 
but  my  own.  Send  some  one  for  me  to-night  when  you 
get  ready  and  I  will  come." 

Sieber  did  not  wait  for  an  answer,  but  went  back  to 
his  camp  alone. 

After  Sieber  had  gone,  Geronimo  said  to  me,  "What 
do  you  say,  boy?  Do  you  like  peace  or  do  you  like 
war?" 

"I  can  say  only,"  replied  I,  "that  I  can  merely  act  as 
interpreter  for  men  who  have  grown  old  in  war.  I  am 
a  young  man  yet  and  have  not  had  experience  enough  to 
act  as  councilor." 

"Ah,"  said  Geronimo,  "you  are  cautious.  You  are 
being  well  fitted.  Your  teacher,  the  iron  man,  is  raising 
you  to  suit  himself.  He  has  an  apt  pupil,  and  you  a  chief 


A  VINDICATION.  155 

for  a  teacher.  You  are  in  good  hands,  but  you  were 
nervous  when  you  came  with  Sieber  a  while  ago.  Were 
you  afraid  of  Geronimo?" 

Yes,  I  told  him  I  had  felt  nervous.  That  I  was  em 
barrassed  also  to  have  to  translate  the  words  of  such 
great  men  as  himself  and  General  Crook  and  Sieber  in  a 
case  of  this  kind. 

"Well,  talk  and  visit  with  my  men  here.  You  will 
always  be  safe  in  my  camp,"  said  he,  "though  if  we  meet 
in  battle,  then  every  one  must  look  out  for  himself." 

I  did  not  feel  much  like  visiting  and  soon  returned 
to  camp.  I  was  going  to  Sieber's  tent,  but  he  told  me 
not  to  stop,  but  to  go  on  to  my  own  tent.  "Geronimo's 
people  are  watching  us,  and  we  will  not  talk  together 
until  after  we  talk  to  him  to-night." 

An  Indian  council,  I  will  say  here,  is  not  a  regular 
discussion  of  any  question,  but  only  by  one  side  at  a 
time.  If  General  Crook  talked  no  one  else  was  permitted 
to  talk  at  that  meeting.  So  it  was  when  Geronimo  sent 
for  Sieber;  only  Geronimo  could  talk  then;  and,  accord 
ing  to  the  custom  of  the  Indians,  one  must  deliberate 
before  speaking.  Consequently  Sieber,  instead  of  an 
swering  Geronimo  at  the  time  he  was  in  the  camp  to 
listen  to  what  he  had  to  say,  could  not  make  an  answer 
only  by  appointing  a  meeting  with  Geronimo  so  he  could 
answer  him. 

It  was  close  to  10  o'clock  at  night  when  an  Indian  kid 
came  and  told  me  to  get  Sieber  and  to  go  to  Geronimo, 
which  I  did. 

Geronimo  was  alone,  with  the  exception  of  one 
woman  who  wras  there  to  build  the  council  fire  and  keep 
it  going.  (Such  work  as  building  up  a  council  fire  was 


156  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  : 

beneath  the  dignity  of  such  men  as  Geronimo  and 
Sieber.) 

All  three  of  us  sat  down  in  a  circle  on  some  skins  and 
Sieber  said  to  Geronimo:  "Now  we  will  not  be  in  coun 
cil,  but  will  just  talk  to  each  other  as  brothers  and  war 
riors,  as  you  said  in  council  this  evening." 

Sieber  then  began :  "Geronimo,  you  asked  me  for  my 
advice.  You  must  have  known  what  it  was  when  you 
asked  me  to  give  it.  I  am  for  peace  all  the  time  when 
peace  can  be  made  to  answer.  I  am  in  favor  of  war  only 
when  I  know  there  can  be  no  peace.  You,  Geronimo,  do 
not  like  peace,  else  you  would  never  have  left  the  Reser 
vation  years  ago  when  you  were  there.  The  last  time 
I  talked  to  you  in  the  Terras  Mountains  I  told  you  that 
the  time  was  not  far  off  when  the  Americans  could  come 
into  Mexico  in  pursuit  of  you  and  your  men.  You  see 
that  I  knew  how  things  wrere  bound  to  come  out,  for  we 
are  here.  Now  I  say  to  you  in  all  faith  and  honor  that 
the  Chiricahuas  can  not  resist  the  white  man  success 
fully  since  we  can  come  to  this  country.  If  you  continue 
to  war  with  the  white  man  now  and  under  these  cir 
cumstances,  you  and  all  your  people  will  be  extermi 
nated.  It  takes  you  ten  years  to  make  a  warrior  out  of 
a  10-year-old  boy.  General  Crook  can  make  many  hun 
dreds  of  soldiers  in  a  single  day.  The  white  man  can  not 
be  exterminated.  You  and  I  have  se^n  this  country 
when  it  was  an  Indian  country.  We  have  seen  it  when 
there  was  no  business  here  except  getting  in  rations  for 
the  soldier  and  his  horse.  We  have  seen  it  from  that  day 
to  this  when  there  are  towns  everywhere,  and  ranches 
and  settlements  where  once  there  were  only  Indians. 
Now  we  see  the  railroad  and  the  telegraph  and  with  this 


A  VINDICATION.  157 

command  is  a  corps  of  men  who  can  signal  words  with  a 
sun  glass  as  the  Indian  can  send  a  signal.  Here  I  see  you 
Geronimo,  the  proud  and  able  war  chief  of  the  Chirica- 
huas,  surrounded  by  the  last  of  your  tribe  and  they  num 
ber  about  six  hundred  souls.  You  are  driven  to  these 
mountains  as  the  last  place  of  refuge.  Here  now  are  two 
hundred  men  or  more  in  the  very  heart  of  the  country  you 
have  come  to  as  a  place  of  refuge  and  these  two  hundred 
men  are  Americans  and  can  find  their  way  here  again.  I 
ask  of  you  now  what  can  you  do? 

"You  must  go  to  the  Reservation  now  or  else  make 
up  your  mind  to  die  on  the  war  path  and  see  the  last 
remnant  of  your  tribe  die  with  you.  Your  men  are  brave 
and  fearless,  and  your  influence  with  them  is  as  you  want 
to  make  it.  Not  one  of  them  is  afraid  to  die,  but  all  men 
who  are  used  to  facing  death  every  day  of  their  lives  like 
to  get  the  best  of  any  fight  that  they  are  compelled  to 
make.  I  have  fought  and  know  what  the  feeling  is  when 
I  know  that  I  can  not  win  the  fight.  My  heart  gets  heavy 
when  I  know  that  I  have  to  lie  close  in  the  rocks  all  day 
and  creep  away  when  the  darkness  comes  and  can  only 
take  my  rifle  with  me  and  can  not  tell  when  I  may  get 
something  to  eat  and  at  times  something  to  bind  up 
my  wounds.  I  can  not  tell  you  how  I  feel  then,  but  this 
I  can  say:  that  it  is  not  well  for  any  man  to  be  so,  be  he 
white  or  red. 

"I  never  walk  into  a  trap  that  I  can  see  and  still  I 
have  walked  into  more  than  one  trap.  Among  all  the 
warriors  in  the  Chiricahua  tribe  not  one  knows  more  of 
the  mountains  or  of  war  than  I.  While  you  have  been 
growing  weaker  in  men  day  by  day  and  week  by  week, 
my  position  has  become  stronger  and  stronger,  until  now. 


158  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

I  know  that  the  white  man  wrill  rule.  Can  I  make  you 
believe  that?  Yes,  I  will  answer  that  question.  I  can 
make  you  believe  it,  for  you  know  I  speak  only  the  truth. 
I  am  an  old  man.  You  know  when  I  was  a  young  man. 
Twenty-five  years  of  my  life  have  been  spent  with  the 
Government,  and  during  all  of  that  time  my  one  business 
has  been  to  hunt  down  the  Indians  who  were  marauders 
and  enemies  to  my  people.  Some  men  never  get  killed, 
and  I  must  be  one  of  them.  You  know  if  my  words  have 
ever  been  words  of  wisdom  and  truth.  I  always  do  my 
best.  Sometimes  I  have  made  mistakes,  but  never  have 
I  told  an  Indian  a  deliberate  lie.  Geronimo,  I  say  to  you, 
take  my  advice  and  tell  General  Crook  to-morrow  that  you 
and  your  people  will  go  with  him  to  San  Carlos.  Now 
you  know  that  you  can  not  hold  out  and  from  here  there 
is  no  further  place  for  you  to  go.  How  can  I  say  more?" 
.  Geronimo  sat  for  a  long  time  and  did  not  say  a  word. 
At  last,  after  a  long  sigh,  he  said : 

"Sibi,  your  words  have  touched  me.  They  have 
struck  deep  into  my  heart.  I  will  consider  well  what 
you  have  said,  for  I  know  it  is  the  truth;  but  I  am  and 
always  have  been  a  proud  man,  and  such  words  from  you 
make  my  heart  heavier  than  even  the  words  of  General 
Crook.  I  talk  to  the  General  in  the  morning,  you,  of 
course,  will  be  there.  I  will  not  forget  what  advice  you 
have  given  me." 

It  was  past  midnight  and  we  all  started  to  our  camps. 
The  woman  who  was  to  keep  up  our  fire  had  gone  to 
sleep;  our  fire  had  nearly  gone  out.  Geronimo  gave  her 
a  slight  kick  and  told  her  to  go  to  her  tent.  So  ended 
our  first  day  in  the  Chiricahua  camp. 


A  VINDICATION.  159 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Geronimo  Answers  General  Crook — The  Red  Commander 
Outwits  the  White  Commander,  and  the  Government 
Is  Made  Accessory  to  Theft — Horn  Becomes  Chief  of 
Scouts  to  Succeed  Sieber — Tribute  to  Sieber — Twenty- 
five  Apache  Scouts  Enlisted;  Micky  Free  as  First  Ser 
geant — Their  "Military"  Appearance — An  Apache's 
"Outfit" — Christmas  Dinner  at  Camp  Apache — Gate- 
wood's  Troubles  With  Geronimo's  People — Horn  Or 
ders  Chiricahuas  Counted  at  Sunrise  and  Sunset- 
Joins  His  Scouts  at  Camp  Thomas. 


The  following  morning,  bright  and  early,  we  went  to 
the  council  of  General  Crook.  Only  a  few  of  the  Chir 
icahuas  were  present.  By  that,  we,  who  were  acquainted 
with  their  ways,  knew  that  Geronimo  was  going  to  prom 
ise  to  go  back  with  General  Crook  to  the  Reservation. 

Geronimo  commenced  his  talk  to  General  Crook,  and 
if  ever  an  old  horse  thief  did  try  to  make  a  squaring  talk 
for  himself  and  his  people,  that  man  was  Geronimo. 
What  a  great  confidence  man  he  would  have  made! 

"I  listened  to  your  talk  yesterday,"  said  Geronimo, 
"and  it  made  me  feel  that  I  had  done  some  great  wrong. 
Perhaps  I  have  done  wrong,  as  a  white  man  looks  at  my 
actions.  I  know  that  a  white  man  does  not  see  as  an 
Apache  sees,  and  I  know  that  what  is  life  to  a  white 
man  is  death  to  an  Apache.  My  influence  with  my  peo- 


160  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  : 

pie  is  great,  as  you  have  said,  but  there  are  warriors  here 
whom  no  one  can  control.  Within  the  last  year  some 
men  of  my  tribe  have  raided  into  the  American's  country. 
This  I  am  not  going  to  deny.  It  would  be  idle  for  me 
to  attempt  to  deny  it,  for  this  young  man  who  does  your 
translating,  and  this  old  man  who  always  leads  your  war 
parties  (meaning  Sieber  and  myself),  have  met  my  peo 
ple  raiding  up  in  your  country.  This  old  man  here,  Sie 
ber,  killed  one  of  my  young  men,  and  this  interpreter 
ran  up  to  one  of  my  women  and  caught  her  by  the  hair 
and  dragged  her  from  her  horse  and  took  her  captive, 
and  took  her  to  San  Carlos,  and  she  was  the  means  of 
bringing  about  this  talk. 

"You  complain  of  my  people  raiding  and  killing  up 
in  the  American's  country.  Do  you  not  think  I  should 
complain  of  your  war  chief  killing  my  warriors?  Well, 
I  make  no  complaint  of  that  kind,  for  so,  and  in  that  fash 
ion,  do  many  of  my  young  men  wrant  to  die.  I  know,  and 
my  men  know,  that  sooner  or  later  all  will  get  killed 
who  keep  up  such  a  life;  and  now  1  am  going  to  tell  you 
that  a  life  of  this  kind  no  longer  pleases  me.  I  have 
grown  old  on  the  war  path,  and  what  have  I  accom 
plished?  Only  this:  to-day  I  stand  before  you  as  a  sup 
plicant.  To-day  I  am  going  to  ask  of  you  what  I,  the 
proud  war  chief  of  the  Chiricahua  tribe,  never  thought 
to  ask  of  any  white  man.  I  ask  you  to  take  me  to  the 
Reservation,  and  there  to  do  with  me  as  you  see  fit,  and 
as  your  judgment  says  is  right  for  you  to  do.  I  will  go 
with  you  to-morrow,  or  when  you  say. 

"There  are  a  good  many  of  my  people  who  are  not 
here  now.  They  are  scattered  through  these  mountains, 
and  I  will  summons  them  as  soon  as  my  runners  can  get 


A  VINDICATION.  161 

the  news  to  them,  that  they  must  come.  It  will  take 
several  days  to  reach  them,  for  I  know  not  where  they 
are.  I  now  only  wait  for  you  to  say:  'Gerpnimo,  sum 
mons  your  people  and  come  with  me.'  I  am  under  your 
orders  from  now  on.  I  will  have  my  family  move  my 
camp  up  here  to  your  camp,  and  here  I  will  remain  till 
we  are  all  ready  to  start  to  the  United  States.  Give  me 
the  order  to  bring  my  camp  here,  and  to  send  and  gather 
my  people  to  go  with  you.  No  one  could  say  or  do  more 
than  this." 

"I  will  do  as  you  say,"  said  General  Crook. 

Lieutenant  Gatewood  was  then  called  and  told  to  ar 
range  to  issue  rations  to  all  the  renegades  each  day,  and 
to  arrange  to  count  them  each  day,  and  to  take  entire 
charge  of  them. 

He  told  Geronimo  that  Gatewood  would  attend  to 
all  of  that.  He  told  Geronimo  to  bring  his  camp  up  to 
the  soldiers'  camp,  and  that  his  family  would  also  draw 
their  rations,  and  then  he  told  Geronimo  he  would  talk 
to  him  again  in  the  evening.  "For,"  said  General  Crook, 
"Lieutenant  Gatewood  will  be  busy  with  you  most  of  the 
day." 

Geronimo  and  Gatewood  then  went  about  the  ration 
business,  for  that  is  the  joy  of  every  renegade's  heart, 
when  he  wants  to  make  peace.  Flour  and  sugar  cut  a 
big  figure  in  all  they  do  when  once  they  conclude  to  ac 
cept  it. 

General  Crook  asked  Sieber  to  go  with  him  to  his 
tent,  as  he  wanted  to  talk  to  him.  Sieber  said  he  might 
want  me,  and  for  me  to  come  with  them. 

When  we  got  to  General  Crook's  tent,  Crook  asked 
Sieber  what  to  do  next. 


1B2  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

Sieber  said:  "That  talk  was  all  right,  and  Geronimo 
will  do  as  he  said  he  would;  but  the  old  wolf  has  some 
thing  up  his  sleeve,  and  I  think  this  is  what  he  intends 
to  do.  I  think  his  men  have  gone  now — that  they  left 
last  night  to  raid  and  rob  out  in  the  Mexican  settlements, 
so  as  to  get  stock — such  as  mules  and  horses,  to  take  up 
with  them,  and  to  save  my  life  I  can't  think  of  anything 
to  do  to  stop  them.  We  could  call  Geronimo  up  and  tell 
him  not  to  do  this,  and  he  would  say  that  he  would  not 
think  of  doing  such  a  thing;  but  he  was  cute  enough  to 
send  these  men  away  before  he  made  his  talk  to  you. 
Now,  when  they  come  in  with  their  stolen  stock,  he  will 
say  they  were  not  here  when  we  first  came  here.  If  he 
gets  cornered  still  more  closely  he  will  say  that  he  or 
no  other  can  control  some  of  his  men.  I  think  we  will 
have  to  take  hundreds  of  head  of  stolen  horses  and  mules 
to  the  Reservation  with  us.  There  is  some  consolation 
in  knowing  that  they  think  of  staying,  or  they  would 
not  take  that  trouble." 

Sieber  then  told  General  Crook  how  he  and  I  had 
taken  them,  or  a  good  many  of  them,  up  out  of  the  Ter 
ras  Mountains  three  years  before,  when  General  Wilcox 
was  Department  Commander,  and  that  while  many  of 
them  did  not  go  at  that  itme,  the  ones  who  went  did  this 
very  same  thing;  that  the  Mexicans  raised  a  big  row, 
and  were  upheld  by  the  newspapers;  that  Sieber  and  1 
were  accused  by  "El  Fronterizo"  (a  Mexican  newspaper 
published  in  Tucson,  Arizona)  of  standing  in  with  the 
Indians  and  encouraging  them  to  do  this  thing,  and  then 
protecting  them  after  they  got  to  San  Carlos  with  their 
stolen  stock. 


A  VINDICATION.  163 

"Now,  that  same  thing  is  going  to  occur  again,"  said 
Sieber,  "and  you  will  be  blamed  in  place  of  Tom  and  me. 
Xow,  I  can  not  think  of  any  way  to  stop  this — can  you? 
We  can  send  and  tell  Gatewood  to  make  a  good  count 
on  the  bucks  and  find  how  many  there  are  here.  When 
they  came  to  the  council  yesterday  I  counted  193  war 
riors.  In  my  opinion  there  won't  be  ninety-three  for 
Lieutenant  Gatewood  to  count  to-day." 

General  Crook  called  his  orderly  and  sent  word  to 
Gatewood  to  count  the  bucks  and  report  to  him  the  num 
ber  after  he  had  given  them  rations. 

Late  that  evening  Lieutenant  Gatewood  reported 
forty-one  bucks  and  362  squaws  and  children.  General 
Crook  sent  for  Sieber,  after  Gatewood  made  his  report, 
and  told  him  of  the  count.  "We  can  not  do  a  thing  to 
help  ourselves,"  was  what  we  all  concluded. 

At  least  150  warriors  had  gone  in  the  night  to  steal 
horses  from  the  Mexicans,  and  the  American  troops, 
with  General  Crook  personally  in  command,  were  to  pro 
tect  them  in  it,  and  give  safe  transportation  to  the  In 
dians  and  their  booty  to  the  United  States. 

"We  must  stop  it  at  any  sacrifice!"  cried  General 
Crook.  "Call  Geronimo  immediately,"  said  he  to  me. 
"I  can  not  and  will  not  tolerate  such  a  thing  as  this.  I 
should  be  court-martialed  for  it." 

I  went  and  brought  Geronimo  to  the  general  alone. 
Geronimo  no  longer  looked  down  hearted  and  broken  in 
spirit,  as  at  our  previous  talks.  He  was  smiling,  and 
looked  as  happy  as  a  king.  WThen  he  had  taken  a  seat, 
General  Crook  said  to  him: 

"Where  are  all  your  warriors  who  were  here  at  the 
talk  yesterday  morning?" 


164  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  : 

"They  are  gone  into  the  mountains  to  find  and  bring 
back  the  scattered  Apaches,"  replied  Geronimo.  "I  want 
to  take  all  of  them  to  the  Keservation  and  some  of  them 
don't  know  that  I  am  going.  I  have  just  sent  them  word 
by  the  men  who  have  gone  from  this  camp.  Last  night 
I  spoke  with  them,  and  told  them  to  go,  and  most  of 
them,  or  maybe  all  of  them,  left  last  night." 

General  Crook  said  to  him:  "You  have  sent  them  off 
to  rob  and  steal  stock  to  take  to  the  Keservation.  Why 
did  you  do  this?  I  can  not  allow  you  to  get  stock  in  such 
a  manner  to  take  up  there." 

"I  don't  think  they  will  rob  or  steal,"  said  Geronimo, 
"they  have  only  gone  for  the  rest  of  my  people  and  will 
soon  return.  Maybe  we  had  better  all  go  up  to  the  line 
and  let  my  young  men  come  and  join  us  there.  Many  of 
my  people  are  between  here  and  the  line,  and  we  can 
pick  them  up  on  our  way.  No  one  can  tell  where  they 
are  and  no  one  can  call  back  the  men  who  have  gone  after 
them.  We  will  have  to  wait  here  till  they  come  back,  or 
better  still,  we  can  go  slowly  north  and  wait  for  them 
in  the  San  Luis  Mountains." 

"But  I  won't  allow  them  to  take  stolen  horses  to  the 
Reservation,"  said  the  General. 

"Oh,"  said  Geronimo,  "you  need  not  pay  any  atten 
tion  to  a  lot  of  howling  Mexicans.  They  are  only  good 
to  raise  horses  for  the  Chiricahuas.  My  men  won't  steal. 
They  have  a  good  many  horses  cached  in  the  mountains 
and  they  will  likely  pick  them  up,  but  they  won't  raid 
and  steal  now." 

"I  may  send  for  you  again  shortly,"  said  the  General, 
and  Geronimo  went  off  smiling. 


A  VINDICATION.  165 

"He  has  got  all  the  best  of  us  and  he  knows  it,"  said 
Sieber.  "We  had  as  well  pull  out  for  the  line,  for  so  long 
as  we  camp  here  so  long  will  we  see  no  more  Apaches." 

Nothing  else  could  be  done,  so  next  morning  we  set 
out  for  the  line.  General  Crook  said  he  felt  like  a  horse 
thief  himself,  and  Sieber  went  along  swearing  softly  to 
himself. 

"I  knew  that  old  wolf  was  cute,  but  I  was  going  to  do 
something  to  prevent  this  very  thing,"  said  Sieber,  "and 
now  he  has  got  the  best  of  us  on  the  one  point  we  were 
going  to  guard  against.  No  wonder  to  me  now  that  he 
came  up  and  offered  to  go  with  us  without  any  more 
talk.  Do  you  know  that  Geronimo  knew  we  would  try 
every  way  in  the  world  to  prevent  this  very  thing,  and 
that  was  the  way  he  took  to  get  the  best  of  our  talk.  He 
knew  we  thought  he  would  want  to  talk  several  days 
and  that  he  would  then  consent  to  go.  But  instead  of 
three  or  four  days  talk  he  says,  'All  right,  I  am  ready.' 
There  will  not  be  a  Mexican  in  Mexico,  or  a  newspaper 
in  the  United  States  that  won't  swear  we  allowed  them 
to  do  this,  and  that  we  just  shut  the  other  eye  while  they 
did  it.  Of  course  we  may  be  mistaken  and  the  bucks  that 
have  gone  may  not  raid  the  Mexicans,  but  one  who 
knows  the  Apaches  can  only  think  that  is  what  they  are 
going  to  do." 

The  next  day,  as  I  said,  we  pulled  out  toward  the 
United  States  and  the  renegades  with  us,  but  there 
seemed  to  be  no  one  but  women  and  children.  Slowly 
we  kept  on  and  not  an  Indian  joined  us. 

Gatewood  counted  them  morning  and  night,  but  they 
were  always  the  same  number.  We  were  twelve  days 
getting  back  up  on  the  San  Bernardino.  We  did  not 


166  LIFE   OF   TOM   HORN: 

come  back  the  route  we  took  going  down,  for  old  Ge- 
ronirno  had  said  we  might  find  more  of  the  renegades  in 
the  Terras  Mountains.  We  did  not  find  an  Indian.  From 
the  San  Bernardino  we  pulled  over  onto  the  Cajon  Bo- 
nito  to  catch  any  that  might  come  in  that  way. 

We  had  been  on  the  Bonito  about  three  days  and  cal 
culated  to  start  toward  Fort  Bowie  the  following  morn 
ing.  After  night,  twelve  Indians  came  in  and  reported 
to  Gatewood  for  rations.  Gatewood  gave  them  rations 
and  reported  to  General  Crook.  He  sent  for  Geronimo 
and  asked  about  the  men  who  had  just  come  in.  Ge 
ronimo  told  him  there  were  twelve.  Crook  then  asked  if 
they  had  brought  in  any  extra  horses,  and  Geronimo 
said  they  brought  in  fifty  head.  General  Crook  told 
Geronimo  that  he  wrould  make  them  turn  all  of  those 
fifty  loose  in  the  morning.  Geronimo  told  him  that 
would  make  all  the  Indians  go  back  on  the  war  path 
again. 

General  Crook  then  said  he  would  pull  out  of  Mexico, 
so  on  the  following  morning  we  did  so.  The  General 
told  Geronimo  that  he  would  leave  soldiers  on  the  line 
to  escort  any  Indians  that  came  in,  back  to  Fort  Bowie, 
and  there  he  would  wait  for  them.  Rations  were  getting 
scarce.  We  no  sooner  got  to  Fort  Bowie  than  the  rene 
gades  began  to  come  in  in  a  stream.  Every  bunch  of 
them  had  a  great  drove  of  horses,  and  soon  after  the 
Indians  commenced  to  come  in,  Mexicans  also  began  to 
come.  All  wanted  their  stock,  and  the  Indians  refused 
to  give  it  up. 

I  guess  there  were  more  than  a  thousand  head  of  the 
stolen  horses  and  there  were  several  Mexican  lawyers 
on  the  ground,  and  things  began  to  look  interesting. 


A  VINDICATION.  167 

Arrangements  were  finally  made  to  pay  the  Mexicans 
for  their  stock  as  they  could  prove  it.  And  on  that 
basis  that  part  of  the  trouble  was  finally  settled,  though 
even  until  now  I  do  not  know  where  the  money  came 
from  to  pay  them. 

About  this  time  Sieber  was  taken  down  with  the 
rheumatism,  and  some  of  his  old  wounds  broke  out,  so 
he  was  sent  to  the  hospital.  General  Crook  went  to 
Fort  Whipple,  and  Captain  Crawford,  Gatewood  and  I 
were  left  with  the  Indian  problem  on  our  hands. 

We  were  ordered  to  take  the  Indians  to  San  Carlos, 
which  we  did.  Geronimo  then  wanted  to  move  up  on 
Turkey  Creek,  close  to  Camp  Apache,  and  in  the  fall  we 
moved  them  all  up  there. 

Sieber  got  no  better,  and  he  sent  for  me  to  come  to 
Fort  Bowie  in  November.  There  he  told  me  he  had  made 
all  arrangements  for  me  to  be  Chief  of  Scouts,  for  he 
said  he  would  never  go  on  another  trip.  He  said  he  was 
old  and  worn  out.  That  was  the  last  time  he  ever  did 
go  on  a  trip.  He  was  still  kept  at  Whipple  and  San 
Carlos  by  turns  and  drew7  $100.00  a  month,  but  the  only 
thing  he  ever  did  after  that  trip  was  to  sit  around  and 
give  advice  regarding  the  Indians. 

No  white  man  ever  knew  Indians  as  Sieber  knew  the 
Apaches.  The  Apaches  in  turn,  had  the  greatest  respect 
for  him.  His  courage  was  only  matched  by  his  regular 
bull-dog  hang-on-and-stay-a-long-time  qualities.  All 
quartermaster's  men  told  of  how  he,  one  time,  lifted  a 
pack  mule  up  and  set  it  on  a  ledge  from  which  it  had 
fallen.  This  was  an  example  of  his  strength. 

For  myself,  personally,  I  always  thought  he  was  the 
greatest  and  best  man  I  ever  knew.  Some  said  Sieber 


168  LIFE  OF  TOM    HORN  : 

was  no  fit  company  for  man  or  beast.  That  was  because 
he  would  go  for  days  at  a  time  and  never  speak  to  any 
one.  No  one  knew  where  he  came  from  originally.  A 
few  people  in  Arizona  had  known  him  in  California,  but 
before  that  he  was  a  blank.  I  don't  think  any  one  ever 
did  ask  him  where  he  was  born  or  raised,  for  he  was  not 
the  kind  of  a  man  that  one  cared  to  ask  such  a  question. 
His  face  always  looked  stern,  and  perhaps  savage,  to  one 
who  did  not  know  him,  but  to  me  he  was  always  good 
and  kind  and  never,  unless  in  the  heat  of  battle,  did  he 
speak  loud  or  cross.  He  was  spoken  of  by  the  Indians 
as  the  "man  of  iron,"  and  of  iron  he  must  have  been.  He 
was  shot  in  Indian  battles  twenty-eight  times  with 
bullets  and  arrows,  and  the  twenty-ninth  time  he  was 
crippled  for  life.  That  was  when  the  Apache  Kid  broke 
out,  as  I  will  describe  when  I  get  to  it. 

Capt.  Crawford  was  now  stationed  at  San  Carlos  with 
his  troop  of  cavalry.  I  also  put  in  a  big  portion  of  my 
time  there.  All  the  Cibicus  were  as  good  and  quiet  as 
mean  Indians  could  be.  The  hanging  of  Dead  Shot, 
Dandy  Jim  and  Loco  had  a  good  effect  on  them. 

About  Christmas  time,  Gatewood  sent  word  for  me  to 
come  up  and  see  him,  as  he  was  having  some  trouble.  He 
did  not  say  what  it  was.  I  mentioned  to  Captain  Craw 
ford  that  I  was  going  up  to  the  Chiricahua  camp  and 
asked  him  if  he  wanted  to  send  any  word  up  to  Gate- 
wood. 

Captain  Crawford  said  he  would  go  with  me  and  we 
would  stay  and  have  Christmas  dinner  with  Gatewood. 

I  had  enlisted  twenty-five  Apache  scouts  and  Micky 
Free  was  my  first  sergeant,  so  I  told  him  to  detail  a 
scout  to  take  some  messages  from  Captain  Crawford  and 


A  VINDICATION.  169 

myself  to  Lieutenant  Gatewood,  also  for  him  to  get  ready 
five  of  his  men  as  an  escort  for  the  Captain  and  myself 
to  go  up  to  Gatewood's  camp. 

We  started  a  couple  of  days  before  Christmas  and 
got  there  on  Christmas  eve.  Gatewood  complimented 
us  very  highly  on  our  military  appearance. 

Crawford  said  wre  looked  a  good  deal  more  like  a  band 
of  border  outlaws  than  we  did  like  the  military  com 
mander  of  San  Carlos  and  the  Chief  of  Scouts.  The  only 
thing  military  in  the  whole  outfit  was  our  rifles.  We  all 
had  Springfield  rifles,  but  our  clothes,  and  horses  and 
equipments  were  of  every  kind  from  buckskin  to  calico 
shirts,  and  from  corduroy  pants  to  no  pants  at  all.  There 
was  not  a  soldier's  uniform  in  the  whole  outfit.  Crawford 
and  I  both  had  Mexican  saddles,  as  did  Micky,  but  the 
rest  of  our  escort  had  no  saddles  at  all. 

Usually  the  Apache  just  puts  a  raw-hide  or  hair-rope 
in  a  horse's  mouth  and  that  is  a  complete  outfit  for  him. 
The  Apaches  said  that  the  Americans  were  always  leav 
ing  something  in  camp;  but  an  Apache  never.  With  an 
Indian  rig  (a  horse-hair  rope),  you  had  all  that  was 
needed.  When  you  went  into  camp  the  rope  was  used 
to  stake  out  the  horse,  and  when  you  wanted  to  move, 
all  you  had  to  do  was  to  tie  it  around  his  under  jaw  and 
you  had  a  bridle  and  no  traps  or  parts  of  your  equipment 
were  left  in  camp. 

We  had  a  big  Christmas  dinner  with  Gatewood. 
The  Chiricahuas  were  also  given  ten  head  of  steers  for  a 
Christmas  treat.  Gatewood  waited  till  after  dinner  and 
then  he  told  Crawford  and  me  his  trouble.  He  said  he 
could  not  keep  his  count  of  the  Indians  any  ways  near 
the  same.  One  count  day  there  would  be  six  hundred, 


170  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN! 

and  the  next  count  day  there  would  be  from  five  to  fifteen 
short,  and  he  could  not  get  any  satisfaction  out  of 
Geronimo  about  where  these  people  were.  Geronimo 
said  he  did  not  know.  Noche  was  in  charge  of  the 
Chiricahua  police  and  he  said  he  did  not  know  where 
these  people  were  when  they  were  missing.  Gatewood 
had  counted  them  the  day  we  got  to  camp  and  they  were 
twenty-two  short. 

I  concluded  that  it  was  now  up  to  me,  for  as  chief  of 
the  scouts,  it  was  my  business  to  see  to  such  things.  I 
called  Micky,  who  was  having  a  good  time  in  the  Chirica 
hua  camp,  and  told  him  that  we  would  count  the  Chirica- 
huas  at  sunup  next  morning  and  for  him  to  tell 
Geronimo  that  I  would  expect  to  find  every  Indian  there, 
as  none  had  permits  to  be  absent. 

Micky  said:  "Well,  I  have  learned  that  there  are 
about  fifteen  bucks  gone  back  to  Mexico  to  steal  horses, 
and  if  my  information  is  right  you  won't  find  them  here." 

A  correct  count  next  morning  revealed  the  fact  that 
there  were  twenty  Indians  missing.  As  Chief  of  Scouts, 
I  asked  Geronimo,  Chief  of  the  Camp,  where  they  were. 
He  said  he  did  not  know.  I  told  him  then,  that  his 
people  would  have  to  be  counted  at  sunup  and  sundown 
every  day.  Geronimo  did  make  a  strong  kick  at  this, 
but  he  had  to  come  to  it.  He  said  his  people  did  not 
want  to  be  herded  like  goats  and  that  they  were  not 
molesting  anyone  and  counting  them  so  often  was  an 
imposition. 

While  we  were  listening  to  Geronimo,  trying  to  square 
himself  and  his  people,  the  soldier  who  carried  the  mail 
up  to  Turkey  Creek  from  Camp  Apache,  came  in.  Cap 
tain  Crawford  was  looking  over  the  latest  San  Francisco 


A  VINDICATION.  171 

Examiner  and  found  an  article  copied  from  a  Mexico 
paper,  saying  that  the  Apaches  were  still  raiding  in 
Mexico.  Told  of  the  place  and  the  number  of  Indians 
supposed  to  be  in  the  band.  Geronimo  was  still  talking 
when  Captain  Crawford  called  to  GatewTood  that  he  had 
found  his  missing  Indians.  He  brought  the  paper  over 
and  read  the  article  and  I  translated  it  to  Geronimo.  He 
swore  that  the  paper  lied,  but  as  some  of  his  people  were 
missing,  he  could  not  make  a  very  good  showing  in  a 
talk. 

I  sent  Micky  to  San  Carlos  for  the  balance  of  the 
company  of  scouts  and  made  arrangements  for  them  to 
go  to  Camp  Thomas,  where  I  would  meet  them.  I  made 
arrangements  to  have  the  Indians  in  Geronimo's  camp 
counted  twice  a  day  and  then  I  went  to  Camp  Thomas 
to  meet  my  scouts. 


172  LIFE  OF  TOM   HORN: 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

After  the  Raiders — Apache  Smoke  Signals — Apache 
Humor — Horn  Gathers  His  Scattered  Scouts  and  Is 
Joined  by  Twenty  Troopers  (Lieutenant  Wilder)  and 
a  Dozen  Cowboys — In  Ambush  for  the  Raiders — "You 
Must  Obey  Me;  I  Will  Cut  the  Throat  of  the  Man  Who 
Does  Not  Do  as  I  Say!"— The  Five  Minutes'  Fight, 
Not  a  Foe  to  Tell  the  Story! 

I  met  my  men  and  they  were  all  in  good  shape.  Each 
had  two  war  horses,  and  an  extra  one  to  carry  a  little  grub 
and  to  herd  on.  I  struck  out  for  Fort  Bowie  and  there 
made  arrangements  with  the  quartermaster  to  bring  me 
grub  and  grain  to  old  Camp  Rucker.  I  then  went  on 
towards  the  Mexican  line  to  try  to  intercept  the  rene 
gades  as  they  came  in.  I  scattered  out  my  scouts  and 
gave  each  sergeant  in  charge  of  his  four  men  a  district 
to  work  in,  so  I  could  cover  well  all  the  country  that 
these  renegades  would  have  to  pass  through  coming  back 
to  Arizona. 

My  scouts  were  enlisted  men  and  could  not  again  go 
into  Mexico,  but  I  was  a  civilian  and  could  go  alone  any 
where.  I  went  into  the  Terras  Mountains  in  Mexico.  I 
felt  sure  the  renegades  would  come  through  that  way. 

I  was  making  camp  on  the  very  top  of  the  Terras 
Mountains  and,  as  it  was  quite  a  bit  after  night,  I  was 
thinking  of  building  a  fire,  and  I  knew,  also,  that  it  was 


A  VINDICATION.  173 

not  the  proper  thing  to  do,  because  if  the  renegades  did 
come  through  there,  they  could  see  or  smell  my  fire.  I 
was  on  the  side  of  the  mountain,  where  I  could  plainly 
see  a  place  on  the  Bavispe  River  called  Los  Pillares.  I 
was  hobbling  one  of  my  horses  that  I  called  "Pilgrim." 
When  I  got  him  hobbled,  I  saw  he  was  looking  intently 
at  something  in  the  distance,  so  I  glanced  down  towards 
the  Pillares  and  on  one  of  the  Pillares  (Pillares  in  Mexi 
can  is  pillars,  or  buttes),  I  saw  an  Indian  signal  fire.  Of 
course  I  knew  what  the  Indian  was  trying  to  do.  He 
was  trying  to  signal  some  Indians  and  he  did  not  know 
where  they  were.  I  knew  the  signal  was  not  there  when 
I  started  to  hobble  my  horse,  and  was  sure  I  would  learn 
something  before  morning.  Presently  the  signals  were 
repeated,  and  they  plainly  said  to  me:  "Answer!"  After 
an  hour  they  were  repeated,  "Answer!"  Of  course  I 
did  not  build  any  fire,  but  wrapped  myself  up  in  my 
blankets,  for  it  was  cold  (it  was  the  first  half  of  January), 
and  set  me  down  to  wait  and  see  if  the  signal  was  an 
swered. 

About  10  o'clock  the  man  doing  the  signal  act  had  re 
ceived  an  answer,  but  I  could  not  see  the  point  his  an 
swer  came  from.  He  signaled,  one  long  flash  and  four 
or  five  small  or  short  ones,  then  two  flashes  and  two 
again.  The  signals  meant  to  me  that  they  "were  all 
right  and  would  wait  there  two  days."  I  knew  that  the 
rest  of  the  Indians  had  asked  them  from  some  distance 
to  wait  for  them  two  days. 

I  knew  now  that  it  was  time  for  me  to  be  moving  to 
get  my  scouts  together  and  try  to  intercept  the  renegades 
in  Arizona.  I  was  not  going  to  bring  my  men  into  Mex 
ico,  for  I  had  had  enough  of  that.  I  traveled  all  night, 


174  LIFE   OF  TOM    HORN: 

and  after  sunup  next  morning  rode  into  Slaughter's 
Kanch,  on  the  line  at  the  head  of  the  San  Bernardino 
Creek.  I  saw  John  Slaughter  and  told  him  I  wanted  the 
best  horse  he  could  let  me  have.  I  then  told  him  where 
I  had  been  and  what  I  had  been  doing.  He  gave  me  a 
good  breakfast  and  told  one  of  his  Mexicans  to  saddle 
up  one  of  the  best  horses  on  the  ranch  while  I  ate.  I 
told  Slaughter  I  wanted  to  leave  my  two  horses  there  that 
day  and  night,  for  I  had  ridden  very  hard,  and  wanted  a 
Mexican  to  bring  them  on  to  Camp  Rucker  the  next  day. 

This  he  promised  to  do  (and  did  do),  and  then  I  got 
on  my  fresh  horse  and  was  ready  to  pull  out.  Slaughter 
came  out  and  said:  "Tom,  that  is  the  best  horse  on 
this  ranch,  but  I  have  got  three  thousand  more,  so  you 
can  keep  that  one.  I  know  you  never  spare  your  own 
horses,  and  I  am  going  to  give  you  that  one,  so  you  will 
have  no  excuse  to  spare  him." 

I  pulled  out  for  Rucker,  about  forty  miles  away,  but 
I  was  on  a  good  fresh  horse,  and  I  let  him  go.  I  was 
within  about  fifteen  miles  of  Rucker  and  I  saw  some  one 
coming  down  out  of  the  hills  to  intercept  me,  and  I  saw, 
also,  that  it  was  an  Indian,  in  a  very  great  hurry. 

It  proved  to  be  one  of  my  scouts  on  the  look  out  for 
anything  he  could  see.  He  saw  me  at  a  distance  and 
recognized  me,  but  he  could  not  make  out  my  mount,  as 
I  was  riding  a  horse  strange  to  him. 

I  learned  that  the  squad  he  was  with  was  only  a  short 
distance  away,  so  we  went  to  where  it  was.  I  wanted  all 
of  the  scouts,  and  I  wanted  them  that  night.  They  were 
on  the  head  of  the  Guadaloupe  and  up  at  Skeleton  Canon, 
and  on  the  southern  point  of  the  Chiricahua  Mountains. 
I  started  a  scout  for  each  of  the  squads  of  scouts,  and 


A  VINDICATION.  175 

told  them  I  wanted  every  man  of  them  by  daylight  next 
morning.  I  then  went  to  a  place  called  Tex  Spring  and 
waited  for  them,  for  that  was  the  place  we  were  to  meet. 

1  kept  one  of  the  scouts  with  me,  and  when  he  and  I  got 
to  the  spring  I  told  him  to  keep  an  eye  open  and  look 
after  my  horse,  as  I  was  going  to  sleep.    It  was  about 

2  o'clock  when  I  lay  down  and  pulled  my  blanket  over 
me,  and,  as  I  had  not  slept  a  wink  the  night  before,  I 
was  soon  dead  to  the  world. 

It  was  after  dark  when  some  one  touched  me,  and  I 
woke  and  found  Micky  standing  there.  "May  we  build 
a  fire?"  he  asked.  I  told  him,  yes,  all  the  fire  he  wanted. 
He  said  all  the  scouts  were  there  but  six,  and  these 
would  be  in  soon,  sure.  He  said:  "We  are  hungry,  and 
some  of  our  horses  are  tired."  I  told  him  to  send  all  the 
horses  to  herd  and  make  ready  to  stay  there  all  night, 
and  as  soon  as  they  could  get  something  to  eat  I  would 
talk  to  them.  And  I  told  him  to  tell  the  rest  of  the  men 
that  I  saw  the  signal  fire  of  the  Chiricahuas  the  night 
before  on  one  of  the  Pillares.  Micky  said:  "Now,  where 
were  you  when  you  saw  them?"  I  told  him  on  the  top 
of  the  Terras  Mountains,  and  that  I  left  the  top  of  the 
mountains  about  midnight.  He  went  and  gave  orders 
to  send  out  the  herd  and  wre  soon  had  something  to  eat. 
We  had  just  got  through  eating  when  up  came  the  rest 
of  my  scouts. 

A  strong  sense  of  humor  runs  all  through  the  Apache 
race.  When  these  last  Indian  scouts  reached  camp  the 
sergeant  with  them  came  up  to  me  and  saluted  me,  as 
he  had  seen  the  American  soldiers  do,  in  a  very  business 
like  way.  Micky  said  to  him :  "Why  do  you  salute  your 
chief?  He  is  no  soldier.  He  is  a  citizen.  I  am  the 


176  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  I 

ranking  soldier  of  this  outfit,  and  if  you  want  to  salute, 
I  am  the  one  to  be  saluted."  "I  can't  salute  you,"  re 
torted  the  scout;  "there  is  too  much  mixture  in  you  for 
me  to  attempt  it.  You  are  part  Mexican  and  part  some 
thing  else,  and  I  don't  know  what  that  part  is.  I  know 
I  never  saw  anyone  else  like  you.  I  know  only  Ameri 
cans,  Mexicans  and  Apaches.  You  are  none  of  these 
and  you  are  all  of  them,  and  as  I  am  only  Apache  I  will 
have  to  balk."  This  is  the  kind  of  talk  and  josh  that 
you  could  always  find  in  the  Apache  scouts'  camp. 

Micky  made  them  eat,  turn  out  their  horses,  and  then 
we  had  a  talk  to  see  how  we  could  get  a  lick  at  the  rene 
gades.  I  told  them  all  I  had  seen,  and  Micky  said  the 
same  as  did  all  the  rest — that  the  signals  I  saw  sent  from 
the  Pillares  were  to  the  effect  that  the  ones  at  the  Pil- 
lares  would  be  joined  by  the  others  in  two  days.  I  told 
them  that  it  was  just  about  the  same  time  the  nightie- 
fore  that  I  saw  the  last  of  the  signals.  It  was  seventy- 
five  miles  to  that  place,  so  going  there  was  out  of  the 
question  for  two  reasons.  We  would  not  have  time,  and 
we  could  not  go  into  Mexico.  Now,  the  question  was, 
what  would  we  do  and  how  would  we  be  able  to  get  a 
lick  at  them? 

Just  then  one  of  the  scouts  on  herd  came  in  and  said 
there  were  soldiers  coming.  I  got  on  the  scout's  pony 
and  went  to  meet  them.  This  was  always  customary, 
as  wild  Indians  and  tame  scouts  all  look  alike  in  the 
dark. 

The  soldiers  proved  to  be  Lieutenant  Wilder  and 
twenty  troopers  of  the  Third,  and  he  was  glad  to  find 
me.  General  Crook  had  learned  that  I  had  gone  towards 
the  line  with  my  scouts,  and  he  was  afraid  I  would  in- 


A  VINDICATION.  1 1  i 

vade  Mexico  again.  Wilder  had  dispatches  to  that  effect 
for  me  from  General  Crook.  Wilder,  of  course,  went  into 
camp  there  with  me.  General  Crook's  dispatches  to  me 
said  that  Lieutenant  Wilder  would  remain  with  me  in 
command  of  the  outfit,  as  it  was  necessary  to  have  a 
commissioned  officer  in  command  of  enlisted  men,  and 
that  my  scouts  were  all  enlisted  men. 

Wilder  came  over  to  my  fire  after  he  got  his  camp 
straightened  out,  and  I  told  him  what  my  dispatches 
contained.  That  I  had  an  order  from  the  adjutant  gen 
eral  for  him  to  take  command.  I  then  reported  to  him 
what  I  knew  and  what  I  had  seen  from  the  top  of  the 
Terras  Mountains,  and  that  I  was  sure  the  renegades 
would  come  up  in  twro  days,  or  three  at  most,  and  I 
wanted  to  try  to  get  a  lick  at  them. 

Wilder  was  a  trump.  He  called  me  Chief,  and  said 
he  would  do  anything  in  the  world  I  told  him  to.  "Now, 
you  want  those  Indians,"  said  he,  "and  nothing  was  said 
to  me  about  Indians;  but  we  will  give  them  a  little  chase 
just  for  luck." 

We  all  concluded  to  go  to  bed  and  wait  till  morning. 
Wilder  was  all  right,  for  he  had  two  blankets,  and  he 
offered  me  one  of  them,  as  he  said  he  had  a  piece  of  can 
vas  besides  his  blankets.  I  would  not  take  his  blanket, 
and  the  next  morning  I  saw  his  good  piece  of  canvas — it 
was  about  four  feet  square! 

Next  morning  we  started  to  go  to  the  southern  end 
of  the  Chiricahua  Mountains  to  pick  out  a  place  to  take 
up  a  good  position,  that  we  might  cover  all  the  ground  to 
the  Mexican  line.  WTe  were  joined  by  six  San  Simon 
cowboys.  Micky  had  met  one  of  them  the  night  before 
and  told  him  that  I  was  at  Tex  Spring;  that  I  had  just 


178  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  : 

coine  up  from  Mexico,  and  was  sure  to  have  some  knowl 
edge  of  the  renegades,  as  I  had  twenty-five  scouts  there 
on  the  line,  and  had  just  sent  word  for  all  of  them  to 
join  me  at  Tex  Spring,  to  get  there  before  daylight,  sure. 

The  cowboys  were  always  ready  for  anything,  and  so 
they  came  to  help  us  out  if  they  could.  They  were  all 
well  armed  and  well  mounted.  Our  force  was  all  right 
now,  if  we  could  just  make  the  correct  guess  and  inter 
cept  the  Indians.  The  boss  of  the  cowboys  said  for  me 
only  to  tell  him  what  to  do  and  he  would  do  it. 

One  of  my  scouts  reported  a  band  of  men  of  some 
kind  coming  across  the  flat.  They  proved  to  be  John 
Slaughter's  men,  and  I  sent  one  of  the  cowboys  to  head 
them  off  and  bring  them  directly  to  us.  When  they  came 
up  I  found  they  had  my  two  saddle  horses  that  I  had 
left  at  Slaughter's  Ranch.  The  Slaughter  men  were  five 
in  number,  and  all  were  Mexicans  except  the  boss,  who 
was  a  Texan.  They  wanted  some  of  the  row  if  we  could 
get  them  into  it.  They  were  armed,  as  Wilder  said,  like 
pirates  and  well  mounted.  I  knew  there  were  only 
twenty  or  twenty-one  Indians  in  the  bunch,  and  at  least 
three  and  maybe  five  of  those  were  women.  So  we  all 
knew  that  if  we  could  strike  them,  they  were  ours. 

The  San  Simon  cattle  boss  wanted  to  get  at  them  so 
bad  that  he  could  hardly  be  controlled.  He  said  he 
wanted  to  get  in  a  place  where  he  could  get  right  up  on 
the  edge  of  them.  I  just  wanted  a  man  or  two  like  him, 
so  I  put  him  with  Micky.  We  could  not  figure  that  the 
renegades  could  or  would  come  any  other  way  than  by 
and  mouth  of  the  big  open  canon  called  Dry  Creek.  They 
would  come  from  the  Pillares,  where  they  would  all  get 
together,  and  Micky  and  I  figured  that  they  would  come 


A  VINDICATION.  179 

up  in  the  Wild  Bull  Hills,  as  the  Indians  called  them. 
We  calculated  they  would  then  try  to  make  the  southern 
point  of  the  Chiricahuas  Mountains  from  there  in  one 
night.  It  would  be  forty  miles,  but  it  was  open  country, 
and  they  would  be  bound  to  cross  the  Mexican  line  from 
where  they  were  in  the  night.  Then  I  knew  they  would 
have  a  good  big  lot  of  horses,  and  by  crossing  in  the 
night,  and  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  San  Bernardino 
Ranch,  the  horses  they  had  would  not  make  so  conspicu 
ous  a  trail  to  be  seen  and  followed  by  anyone,  as  there 
were  hundreds  of  head  of  horses  on  the  San  Bernardino 
Ranch.  I  knew,  also,  that  the  renegades  would  figure 
on  this  same  thing.  It  would  also  make  the  best  route 
to  the  Reservation. 

Well,  we  camped  there,  and  I  put  in  the  day  figuring 
out  the  exact  way  the  Indians  would  come.  If  we  could 
make  the  right  guess  on  the  exact  place  they  would 
come  through,  then  we  could  get  them  easily.  I  took 
only  Micky  with  me,  as  he  and  I  were  the  only  ones 
among  the  scouts  that  knew  every  foot  of  the  country. 
We  finally  decided  that  the  place  the  Indians  would 
come  would  necessarily  be  the  mouth  of  Dry  Creek. 
That  settled  it,  and  we  went  to  camp.  We  kept  a  good 
watch  during  the  day,  thinking  we  might  see  something, 
but  nothing  showed  up. 

That  evening  I  placed  all  the  men  just  where  I 
wanted  them  and  we  waited  and  watched  the  best  we 
could  during  the  night,  but  not  a  sign  did  we  see  of  the 
renegades.  We  put  in  the  day  eating  and  sleeping,  and 
of  course  kept  a  good  lookout.  In  the  evening  I  took 
more  precautions  than  on  the  previous  evening,  as  I  fig- 


180  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  : 

ured  we  would  strike  them  about  daylight  next  morn 
ing. 

Next  morning,  when  it  got  light,  there  were  no  In 
dians  on  hand,  but  we  saw  a  big  dust  off  to  the  south, 
and  we  knew  it  was  the  renegades  with  their  stolen 
horses.  They  were  fully  ten  miles  away.  At  first  we 
could  only  see  the  dust,  and  it  was  quite  a  while  after 
sunup  before  we  could  distinguish  the  Indians.  The  herd 
of  horses  kicked  up  a  great  cloud  of  dust,  and  the  In 
dians  were  enveloped  in  the  cloud  of  dust,  so  we  could 
only  make  out  one  once  in  a  while. 

Instead  of  coming  up  into  the  mouth  of  the  Dry  Gulch, 
where  we  thought  they  would,  they  kept  on  around  the 
foot  of  the  mountains  in  the  open.  As  soon  as  I  could 
determine  for  sure  which  way  they  were  going,  I  ar 
ranged  my  men,  and  a  fine  opportunity  we  had. 

The  renegades  had  no  idea  we  were  near,  and  as  they 
got  close  to  us,  I  could  plainly  hear  them  singing. 

I  arranged  for  Lieutenant  Wilder  and  his  troops  to 
strike  them  in  the  lead,  and  the  cowboys,  led  by  Micky, 
were  to  take  them  in  the  rear.  I  would  keep  my  Indian 
scouts  with  me,  as  I  had  misgivings  about  the  wild  sol 
diers  and  about  the  cowboys,  wilder  still;  and  as  it  was 
to  be  a  fight  on  horseback,  I  knew  everybody  would  be 
more  or  less  excited.  The  San  Simon  cowboys  were  led 
by  a  wild  kind  of  fellow,  and  he  asked  me  if  the  man  I 
was  putting  with  him  was  anyways  timid.  "If  he  is," 
said  he,  "you  keep  him  and  let  us  cowboys  go  it  alone." 
I  told  him  that  if  Micky  acted  timid,  to  come  back  and 
tell  me,  and  I  would  shoot  him.  I  told  him  to  follow 
Micky  and  he  would  be  in  the  fight.  1  had  told  Micky 
how  to  do,  and  not  to  start  the  fight,  but  to  wait  and  let 


A  VINDICATION.  181 

me  start  it.  I  told  him  that  I  would  expect  him  to  con 
trol  the  cowboys  till  he  heard  my  yell  and  shots  from  my 
party. 

Now  we  were  ready  and  the  Indians  were  still  half  a 
mile  away.  We  were  waiting  for  them  to  get  behind  a 
hill,  then  my  men  would  get  in  position.  Micky  ranged 
up  his  cow  boys  and  addressed  them  in  Mexican,  which 
they  all  understood.  (Micky  could  not  talk  English.) 
He  said  to  them: 

"Friends,  I  will  take  you  into  this  fight,  and  then  each 
of  you  do  as  you  please  after  the  fight  gets  started.  You 
wrant  to  do  as  I  tell  you  until  the  chief  says  to  start,  and 
then  we  will  go.  Till  that  time,  you  must  obey  me  and  I 
will  cut  the  throat  of  the  man  who  does  not  do  as  I  say. 
That  is  all.  Come  on." 

A  more  recklessly  brave  man  than  Micky  never  did 
live  at  any  time,  and  as  the  cow  boys  wanted  to  fight  so 
bad,  I  knew  that  if  they  followed  Micky  they  would  be 
in  it. 

I  got  down  as  close  to  where  the  Indians  would  come, 
as  I  could  get.  They  were  coming  slowly  and  we  had 
plenty  of  time.  The  herd  would  come  within  two  hun 
dred  yards  of  where  my  party  were  concealed.  Just 
when  they  got  to  where  I  wanted  to  strike  them,  one  of 
the  renegades  gave  a  yell.  "Un-Dah!"  he  yelled.  (That 
meant  "White  men.")  I  was  going  to  start  the  fight  by 
firing  and  this  renegade  that  gave  the  yell  was  looking 
towards  wrhere  I  knew  Wilder  was.  I  wras  on  the  ground 
and  was  going  to  shoot  at  this  Indian.  He  checked  up 
his  horse  an  instant  and  I  blazed  away  at  him.  That  was 
the  signal,  and  few  men  ever  saw  such  a  sight  as  I  saw 
there.  Soldiers  rode  at  them  from  the  front,  Wilder  at 


182  LIFE  OF  TOM   HORN: 

their  head.  Cow  boys  charged  them  from  the  rear,  and 
as  I  saw  them  come  over  the  hill  I  looked  to  see  where 
Micky  was.  He  was  all  right  and  leading  the  cow-boy 
charge. 

I  wanted  to  turn  the  renegades  out  into  the  flat  coun 
try,  so  I  took  a  run  at  them  myself,  enough  to  make  them 
think  that  I  had  the  main  body  of  men  with  me.  Sure 
enough  they  turned  for  a  minute  towards  the  flat.  In  a 
good  deal  less  than  a  minute  after  I  fired  the  first  shot, 
soldiers,  and  cow  boys  and  renegades  were  all  mixed  up 
and  most  of  my  scouts  went  away  and  left  me.  I  had 
got  soldier  blouses  from  Wilder's  men  and  put  them  on 
my  scouts,  so  that  if  they  did  all  get  mixed  up,  my  scouts 
would  be  easy  to  distinguish  from  the  renegades. 

If  any  hostiles  got  away  from  that  fight  I  never  saw 
nor  heard  of  them,  and  I  do  think  that  not  one  escaped. 
A  squaw  turned  towards  where  I  was  and  there  was  no 
one  after  her  and  she  was  coming  nearly  directly  toward 
me.  I  stopped  her,  and  I  think  she  was  the  only  one  of 
the  entire  party  that  was  not  killed.  After  the  fight 
was  over  she  told  me  there  had  been  fourteen  in  the 
party.  Eleven  men  and  three  women.  We  found  and 
counted  ten  dead  men  and  two  dead  women,  and  I  had 
one  woman  alive,  which  accounted  for  all  the  women, 
but  there  was  one  man  shy,  and  we  could  not  and  did 
not  find  him.  He  never  returned  to  the  Reservation,  and 
I  do  not  know  what  ever  became  of  that  one  Indian.  My 
opinion  always  was  that  he  escaped  in  some  way,  and 
was  wounded  so  that  he  must  have  died  in  the  mountains. 

I  don't  think  the  fight  lasted  five  minutes.  We,  on 
our  side,  had  one  dead  cow  boy,  a  Mexican  from  San 
Bernardino  ranch,  and  two  wounded  cow  boys.  Micky 


A  VINDICATION.  183 

Free  had  a  big  slash  in  his  left  arm  and  one  soldier  was 
shot  in  the  neck,  and  one  in  the  stomach.  We  were  in 
big  luck  to  get  off  so  easy.  The  cow  boys  and  Micky  did 
most  of  the  killing,  as  they  had  the  best  show  and  all  of 
them  were  riding  their  picked  horses,  and  as  the  San 
Simon  boss  said,  they  did  go  right  up  to  the  edge  of 
them! 

There  were  118  head  of  stolen  horses  and  I  did  not 
know  what  to  do  with  them.  I  would  not  touch  them, 
and  Lieutenant  Wilder  wrould  not  have  anything  to  do 
with  them.  The  San  Simon  boss  would  not  have  anything 
to  do  with  them,  so  I  got  the  Slaughter  boss  from  San 
Bernardino  to  take  them  back  and  turn  them  loose  at  the 
Slaughter  ranch. 

We  buried  the  San  Bernardino  Mexican.  He  had 
tried  to  rope  an  Indian  and  did  rope  him  and  pulled  him 
off  his  horse;  then  the  Indian  got  up  and  killed  him. 

Some  of  the  cow  boys  wanted  to  scalp  the  dead  In 
dians,  but  the  San  Simon  boss  would  not  let  them.  We 
stayed  around  there  till  close  to  noon  and  then  we  all 
went  our  different  ways. 

Wilder  and  I  both  wrote  out  our  reports  of  the  fight, 
and  Wilder  sent  a  couple  of  soldiers  on  in  to  Bowie  with 
them.  I  tried  to  get  Wilder  to  take  charge  of  my  pris 
oner,  but  he  respectfully  declined.  Wilder  was  going 
back  by  the  Tex  Spring  and  I  was  going  up  over  the 
Chiricahua  Mountains  and  I  made  arrangements  to  meet 
Wilder  at  old  Camp  Rucker,  in  two  days  and  we  would 
go  from  there  to  Bowie  together. 


184  LIFE  OF   TOM    HORN  : 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

41 

Horn  Wins  the  Approval  of  Both  Burke  and  Sieber — A 
Breathing  Spell — Visiting  the  Big  Ranches — Back  to 
Camp  Apache — The  Chiricahuas  Becoming  Restless — 
The  Verge  of  Another  Outbreak — Intercepting  More 
Apache  Raiders — A  Surprise  and  a  Scatterment — A 
"Big,  Healthy,  Greasy  Squaw  Treed." — Brandy  as  a 
Persuader  to  Telling  Tales — Geronimo  and  the  Entire 
Tribe  Break  Out  Again — The  Mexican  Rendezvous— 
Planning  to  Thwart  the  Renegades. 

Five  days  after  the  fight  we  got  into  Bowie.  All  this 
happened  in  the  month  of  January,  1884,  and  it  was  the 
last  day  of  January  when  we  got  into  Bowie.  Major 
John  G.  Burke  met  us  there,  or  at  least  he  came  in  the 
first  day  of  February. 

Major  Burke  and  Captain  Roberts,  both  of  whom  were 
on  General  Crook's  staff,  had  a  long  talk  with  my  pris 
oner.  I  was  not  present  at  the  talk.  Major  Burke  spoke 
Mexican,  or  Spanish  as  he  called  it,  and  he  used  Micky 
as  interpreter.  Burke  came,  after  he  got  through  his 
talk,  and  asked  me  what  I  was  going  to  do  with  the 
squaw.  I  told  him  it  was  up  to  him.  He  said  I  might 
send  her  up  to  Turkey  Creek  with  the  rest  of  the  Chiri- 
cahuas,  so  she  could  tell  them  that  the  renegades  that 
were  missing  would  not  come  back.  I  sent  Micky  and  a 
half  dozen  scouts  with  him  to  take  the  woman  up  to 


A  VINDICATION.  185 

Turkey  Creek,  and  to  come  back  by  San  Carlos  and  get 
all  their  traps  and  horses  that  they  wanted  and  coine 
back  to  Bowie,  as  Burke  said  I  must  make  Bowie  my 
headquarters. 

Major  Burke  was  very  much  pleased  with  the  way 
things  were  going,  so  he  told  me. 

When  Micky  and  the  rest  of  the  scouts  came  back,  I 
had  a  long  letter  from  Sieber  and  he  told  me  I  was 
doing  fine,  to  keep  it  up  and  do  just  as  I  saw  fit  all  the 
time  and  never  to  wait  for  orders  from  headquarters,  but 
when^  anything  was  to  be  done,  to  put  out  and  do  it  and 
let  the  orders  follow  me  up,  as  they  had  on  this  occasion. 
He  said  Major  Burke  and  Captain  Roberts  were  both  old 
Indian  fighters,  and  whenever  it  became  necessary  for 
me  to  do  as  I  had  just  done,  (that  was  to  go  on  my  own 
hook,  without  orders);  that  Burke  or  Roberts  would 
always  send  out  a  good  young  man  to  find  me  and  take 
charge  of  my  command,  but  that  the  young  man  would 
always  do  as  I  advised,  just  as  Wilder  had  done,  and 
any  officer  who  would  not  do  so  wrould  never  be  sent  for 
me.  Sieber  said  Burke  and  Roberts  did  not  want  to  tell 
me  this,  but  they  wanted  me  to  do  so  without  being  told. 

After  Micky  got  back  from  San  Carlos  we  lay  around 
Bowie  till  wre  were  tired  of  it,  and  I  took  Micky  and  a 
couple  more  men  and  went  out  to  look  around  the  coun 
try  a  little  and  visit.  The  San  Simon  cow  boss  had 
pressed  me  to  make  him  a  visit,  so  we  took  in  the  San 
Simon  Ranch  for  a  starter. 

We  reached  there  the  next  day  after  we  left  Bowie, 
and  at  the  ranch  we  stayed  for  six  days,  "hunting  In 
dians."  Well,  it  was  certainly  amusing  to  hear  those 
cow  boys  tell  of  the  fight  we  had  out  at  the  south  end  of 


186  LIFE   OF   TOM   HORN: 

the  Chiricahuas.  There  were  ladies,  there,  also,  and  one 
of  them  asked  me  if  I  did  not  think  it  a  very  dangerous 
life  to  lead,  being  chief  of  scouts.  She  asked  me  how  I 
knew  the  Indians  would  come  the  way  they  did  come, 
and  a  great  many  more  questions  with  about  the  same 
amount  of  sense  in  them.  She  asked  me  if  I  was  not 
afraid  my  own  scouts  would  revolt  and  kill  me.  She 
said  they  could  do  so  any  time  out  in  the  mountains.  She 
said :  "All  the  cow  boys  say  that  your  man  Micky  is  one 
of  the  greatest  scouts  alive  and  one  of  the  bravest  men, 
but  I  am  sure  he  looks  like  a  villain." 

I  told  her  that  Micky  was  a  gentleman  and  a  scholar, 
and  that  I  also  considered  him  a  judge  of  beauty,  as  he 
had  told  me  that  the  white  lady  with  blue  eyes  and 
blonde  hair  was  the  prettiest  woman  he  had  ever  seen. 
Next  day  I  noticed  she  had  Micky  in  her  house  feeding 
him  sweet  cakes  and  giving  him  lemonade  to  drink! 

We  knocked  around  the  big  ranch  and  visited  for 
about  three  weeks,  and  then  went  back  to  the  Post. 

Along  in  the  summer  we  went  up  to  Camp  Apache 
and  to  the  Chiricahua  Camp  on  Turkey  Creek.  I  was 
going  to  discharge  my  scouts  in  a  short  time,  as  they  had 
enlisted  for  only  six  months  at  a  time,  and  I  wanted  to 
see  Gatewood,  so  as  to  know  if  it  would  be  necessary  to 
enlist  any  more. 

Gatewood  told  me  he  was  having  an  awful  time.  The 
Chiricahuas  were  unusually  mean;  were  trading  off  all 
their  horses  for  ammunition  and  whiskey,  and  that  they 
were  raising  Cain'with  all  the  other  Indians;  in  fact,  that 
he  could  do  nothing  with  them. 


A  VINDICATION.  187 

"They  will  not  stay  much  longer,"  said  he,  adding 
that  he  was  going  to  leave  the  camp  and  go  and  live  in 
Camp  Apache,  twelve  miles  away. 

I  went  over  to  Geronimo's  camp  and  asked  him  why 
he  could  not  behave  himself.  He  asked  me  what  he  had 
done,  and  I  told  him  that  his  people  were  not  doing  right. 
He  said  he  could  not  do  anything  with  them.  I  asked  him 
if  he  was  tired  of  life  on  the  Reservation,  and  he  said  all 
his  people  were  dissatisfied.  I  wanted  to  know  why.  He 
replied:  "It  will  do  no  good  to  lie  to  you;  they  want  to 
go  back  to  Mexico."  I  told  him  if  he  ever  left  again,  that 
General  Crook  would  keep  his  word  and  go  down  to  Mex 
ico  with  a  wrar  party  and  that  many  Indians  would  have 
to  die.  He  said  that  they  all  wanted  to  go,  and  that  only 
his  counsel  held  them.  I  learned  from  his  talk  that  Gate- 
wood  had  good  cause  to  feel  uneasy,  for  when  Geronimo 
said  that  only  his  voice  for  peace  was  heard  in  the  entire 
Chiricahua  Camp,  that  the  matter  of  peace  hung  by  a 
very  slim  thread,  for  Geronimo  never  had  favored  peace. 
He  would  talk  peace,  and  talk  it  day  and  night,  but  he 
was  in  reality  the  war  chief  of  the  Chiricahuas,  and  was 
still  looked  upon  as  such  by  all  the  tribe,  and  the  balance 
of  peace,  when  left  to  him,  was  surely  a  slim  hold  on 
peace. 

I  went  down  to  San  Carlos,  saw  Sieber  and  told  him 
of  my  talk  with  Geronimo.  I  told  him  that  the  other 
chiefs  would  not  talk  to  me  at  all.  Sieber  said:  "That 
means  war,  and  bitter  war  it  will  be  now.  I  have  just 
learned  what  Geronimo  came  up  here  for.  He  calculated 
to  live  here  on  the  Reservation  and  keep  sending  raiding 
parties  into  Mexico  to  steal  horses  and  bring  them  up 
here  and  sell  them  and  start  up  a  regular  business,  think- 


188  LIFE   OF   TOM   HORN: 

ing  we  would  be  compelled  to  help  him  out  with  it.  You 
and  Wilder  and  the  cow  boys  knocked  it  out  of  the  first 
gang  that  he  sent  down,  and  now  that  he  sees  that  he 
can  not  do  that  kind  of  business  in  a  successful  way  he 
wants  to  go  back  on  the  war  path,  so  he  can  keep  up 
the  devilment  he  loves  so  well.  We  will  go  to  Bowie 
and  see  Burke,  and  we  may  be  able  to  do  something.  At 
least  we  can  not  let  this  go  without  putting  it  to  him 
plainly." 

Sieber  could  not  ride  on  horseback,  as  an  old  wound 
in  his  hip  was  giving  him  a  lot  of  trouble,  so  he  got  an 
ambulance  from  the  Quartermaster  and  we  struck  out  for 
Bowie,  which  was  now  the  Department  Headquarters. 
Sieber  had  to  go  around  by  Thomas  with  the  ambulance, 
so  I  went  straight  across  the  country  and  got  to  Bowie 
one  day  ahead  of  him. 

When  he  came  in  we  saw  Major  Burke  and  told  him 
that  we  thought  Geronirno  was  going  to  break  out  again, 
and  soon  at  that.  We  then  went  over  the  whole  busi 
ness  with  him  and  told  him  our  reasons  for  what  we 
thought.  Major  Burke  told  us  that  General  Crook  was 
in  Washington  and  that  he  would  write  him  a  full  ac 
count  of  what  we  had  reported,  and  see  what  General 
Crook  had  to  say.  Burke  wanted  to  know  what  we  had 
to  suggest  to  stop  the  outbreak.  We  wanted  to  take  up 
the  cavalry  regiment  and  put  all  the  bucks  in  irons  and 
the  women  and  children  under  guard  and  send  them 
away.  Burke  wanted  to  know  where  we  could  send  them 
to.  I  suggested  that  they  be  sent  to  Missouri,  and  Sieber 
said:  "Yes,  send  them  to  Missouri  or  to  h — 1  or  some 
such  place.  That  is  all  we  can  do." 


A  VINDICATION.  189 

I  asked  Burke  if  I  should  enlist  another  company  of 
scouts,  and  he  said  I  could  not,  as  no  arrangements  had 
been  made  for  them.  He  told  me  that  I  could  hire  nine 
Apache  scouts  for  $30.00  a  month  and  them  furnish  their 
own  horses,  and  one  man  for  $50.00  and  furnish  his  own 
horses  and  that  the  Quartermaster  Department  would 
give  me  forage  for  two  horses  for  each  man.  Told  me 
to  go  to  San  Carlos  and  get  them  and  report  back  at 
Bowie  as  soon  as  convenient,  as  he  thought  General 
Crook  would  soon  be  there.  I  went  back  with  Sieber  in 
the  ambulance  and  took  my  saddle,  as  I  had  some  horses 
at  San  Carlos  I  wanted  to  bring  down. 

I  got  my  scouts  as  soon  as  my  old  company  was  dis 
charged.  I  made  Micky  my  head  man,  of  course,  and  we 
were  soon  back  at  Fort  Bowie. 

There  Burke  told  me  that  General  Crook  would  be 
delayed  some  time  in  Washington,  and  hinted  that  now, 
as  my  men  were  all  civilians,  I  could  cross  the  Mexico 
line,  and  that  we  would  not  be  an  armed  body  of 
American  troops.  1  then  told  him  how  Sieber  and  I  once 
crossed  the  line  and  that  our  own  government  rounded 
us  up  for  it,  and  he  laughed  and  said,  yes,  he  knew  all 
about  our  having  been  "reprimanded  by  the  investigating 
committee,"  and  said  that  he  guessed  it  did  not  do  much 
good,  as  the  following  January  I  had  gone  into  Mexico 
alone,  anyhow,  as  far  as  the  Terras  Mountains,  when  I 
located  the  Indians  that  we  cleaned  up  so  well  down  on 
the  south  end  of  the  Chiricahua  Mountains.  I  told  him 
one  man  was  not  an  armed  body  of  men.  He  gave  me  to 
understand  that  if  I  did  violate  the  orders  of  our  War 
Department  and  invade  Mexico  with  civilian  scouts,  that 
our  Government  would  stand  bv  us  if  we  were  arrested 


190  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

down  there.  And  that  if  we  made  an  invasion  and  were 
not  arrested  in  Mexico,  that  he  did  not  think  the  federal 
courts  would  handle  us  very  roughly  here  in  the  United 
States. 

Of  course  we  would  not  be  arrested  in  Mexico,  for 
there  was  no  one  there  to  arrest  us.  Burke  told  me  to 
take  my  men  and  go  make  Camp  Rucker  my  head 
quarters,  and  that  he  would  send  down  rations  and  for 
age  for  us.  He  told  me  always  to  leave  two  or  three  men 
in  camp  so  they  could  go  and  find  me  if  I  were  away  from 
camp  when  any  message  came  from  headquarters. 

We  pulled  out.  We  had  about  twenty-five  extra 
horses  and  every  one  of  them  a  picked  horse.  We  were 
well  fixed  to  do  lots  of  scouting,  but  there  were  no  rene 
gades  out  that  we  knew  of.  I  alwrays  left  three  men  in 
camp  to  feed  and  look  after  our  extra  horses.  Now,  when 
we  would  go  out,  we  never  had  to  take  an  extra  with  us, 
for  we  would  make  only  such  trips  as  took  us  from  four 
to  six  days.  I  never  got  any  further  orders  regarding 
anything.  Every  month  the  Quartermaster's  chief  clerk 
from  Fort  Bowie,  would  come  down  in  his  ambulance 
and  pay  us  off.  There  was  a  troop  of  cavalry  stationed 
there  also,  and  with  the  troop  and  in  command  of  it  was 
my  friend.  Lieutenant  Wilder.  He  put  in  his  leisure 
time  in  wishing  I  could  find  some  more  renegades,  and 
in  drinking  smuggled  muscal.  I  always  left  word  at 
camp  with  the  men  there  as  to  about  where  I  would  be  if 
we  were  needed.  I  wras  looking  for  General  Crook  to 
come,  but  did  not  hear  a  word  more  of  him. 

Along  about  the  middle  of  November  the  long  ex 
pected  happened.  At  the  head  of  Skeleton  Canon  we 
heard  some  shots  fired  and  a  big  bunch  of  "Diamond 


A  VINDICATION.  191 

A"  cattle  came  running  through  the  hills.  There  were 
300  or  400  head  of  them,  and  we  were  sure  it  must  be 
Indians.  It  was  either  Indians  or  outlaws,  sure,  and  so 
we  guessed  Indians.  Whichever  it  was,  if  we  met  them 
it  meant  war.  There  were  eight  of  us,  and  we  were  all 
right  to  look  out  for  ourselves. 

Micky  and  I  got  off  our  horses  and  ran  up  to  the  top 
of  a  little  butte  and  there  we  saw  about  twenty-five  In 
dians  gathered  around  the  carcass  of  a  cow  they  had  shot. 
There  were  squaws,  and  bucks  and  children,  and  they 
were  all  gathered  or  were  gathering  around  the  cow  so 
we  could  not  get  a  count  on  them.  They  were  coming 
from  the  north,  toward  the  Keservation,  as  we  saw  sev 
eral  of  the  hindmost  ones  still  coming  up.  There  was 
water  close  to  them,  but  if  they  camped  at  the  water  we 
could  not  get  at  them,  as  there  was  too  much  open 
country.  They  were  about  600  yards  from  us,  but  we 
could  get  a  great  deal  nearer  by  going  on  foot.  The  only 
thing  to  do  was  to  try  and  get  a  lick  at  them  as  they 
were  butchering. 

We  tode  as  close  as  we  dared  go  on  horseback  and 
then  left  one  man  with  our  horses  and  ran  up  on  a  little 
hill  that  had  a  kind  of  a  rough  stony  top  and  also  a  few 
scrub  trees  on  it.  We  were  only  a  couple  of  hundred 
yards  away,  so  we  tore  loose  at  them.  Well,  I  am  telling 
the  truth  when  I  say  there  was  no  more  butchering  done 
there.  The  women  and  kids  commenced  to  yell  and  their 
horses  were  some  that  had  been  stolen  in  Mexico,  and 
they  most  all  of  them  got  scared  at  the  racket  and 
started  to  run  and  we  kept  on  shooting  for  a  minute,  and 
then  I  sent  four  of  the  scouts  to  bring  the  horses.  The 
man  we  left  with  them  was  coming,  but  he  was  slow. 


192  LIFE  OF  TOM   HORN  : 

In  a  couple  of  minutes  the  horses  were  brought  up. 
Micky  and  I  remained  and  were  shooting  as  well  as  we 
could,  but  we  were  not  doing  any  good.  When  our 
horses  came  up,  we  mounted  and  went  at  the  Indians. 
We  did  not  have  very  good  success,  as  they  were  well 
scattered  now,  and  running,  most  of  them  on  foot,  and 
they  were  hard  to  do  anything  with,  so  we  went  back  up 
the  hill  the  way  the  rest  of  the  scouts  had  gone. 

We  found  Micky  writh  twro  squaws  and  five  children; 
we  also  got  six  horses  and  twro  mules  with  their  equip 
ments.  We  went  down  to  where  we  had  done  the  first 
shooting,  at  the  beef,  and  there  we  found  two  dead  bucks. 
I  was  afoot,  my  horse  having  been  killed,  and  we  had 
a  bunch  of  prisoners.  We  did  not  notice  for  a  while 
that  we  were  one  man  shy,  and  then  we  heard  a  big 
racket  up  on  the  top  of  the  hill.  Micky  rode  up  there 
and  one  of  the  scouts  had  a  big,  healthy,  greasy  squaw 
treed.  The  scout  did  not  want  to  shoot  her,  and  she  had 
out  her  knife  and  swore  she  would  cut  his  heart  out  if 
he  put  his  hand  on  her.  I  did  not  see  it,  but  Micky  said 
it  was  a  great  battle.  The  woman  said  she  would  not 
be  a  prisoner,  so  Micky  said:  "Well,  we  have  got  too 
many  prisoners,  any  way."  He  drew  up  his  gun  as 
though  he  were  going  to  shoot  her  in  the  eye,  and  she 
said:  "Well,  I  will  go  with  you."  That  made  three 
women  and  five  kids  that  we  had  and  the  worst  of  it 
was  we  did  not  have  the  women  the  kids  belonged  to. 

We  loaded  them  all  on  the  horses  we  had  cap 
tured,  after  I  picked  out  the  best  animal  (and  a  very 
good  one  he  proved  to  be  after  he  got  rested  up  a  month 
or  so),  and  for  Camp  Rucker  we  headed.  It  was  getting 
late  and  we  wanted  to  get  out  into  the  San  Simon  Valley 


CAPTAIN  LAW  TON 


A  VINDICATION.  193 

before  night.  We  were  thirty  miles  from  Rucker  and  we 
wanted  to  get  there  that  night.  The  San  Simon  Cattle 
Company  were  boring  a  well  out  in  the  flat  and  I  wanted 
to  go  by  there  and  tell  the  men  the  Indians  were  out,  as 
one  of  our  captives  said  all  the  Chiricahuas  had  broken 
out. 

At  the  well  I  found  one  of  my  men  from  Rucker  com 
ing  to  look  for  me  to  tell  me  of  the  outbreak.  He  had 
also  come  by  the  well  to  let  the  boys  there  know  that  the 
country  was  full  of  Indians.  This  outfit  of  mine  settled 
the  whole  thing  with  the  men  at  the  well.  They  wanted 
to  get  away  from  where  they  were  and  they  wanted  to  do 
it  quick.  They  had  a  good  team  of  horses  and  a  wagon, 
and  a  double-barreled  shot  gun.  They  could  not  go  to 
the  San  Simon  ranch,  as  they  would  be  going  towards 
the  Indians.  When  I  suggested  that  they  hitch  up  and 
go  writh  me,  they  were  very  willing.  I  put  all  my  pris 
oners  and  the  traps  that  were  on  the  captured  horses  in 
the  wagon,  as  the  Indian's  horses  were  very  tired.  I  put 
Micky  in  the  wagon  also,  and  we  again  started  to  Camp 
Rucker,  where  we  arrived  about  sunup. 

Lieutenant  Wilder  had  a  full  report  of  the  outbreak 
from  Bowie,  and  he  was  ordered  to  co-operate  with  me 
and  see  if  we  could  intercept  any  of  the  renegades  that 
were  coining  toward  the  line.  I  told  him  that  we  were 
too  late  to  do  any  more  good,  but  that  I  would  get  some 
thing  to  eat  and  then  have  a  talk  with  the  captives.  The 
women  had  refused  to  talk  much  and  were  as  sullen  as 
mules  in  a  mud  hole. 

I  got  a  big  drink  of  brandy  from  the  surgeon  and  gave 
to  one  of  the  women,  and  then  all  of  them  said  they 
would  talk  if  I  would  give  them  a  dram.  This  I  did,  and 


194  LIFE  OF  TOM   HORN: 

a  big  one,  and  they  then  told  me  all  about  the  outbreak. 
How  every  one  was  made  to  leave  all  extra  horses  and 
camp  traps  and  to  make  for  Mexico  in  small  bunches  of 
about  twenty  in  a  bunch,  and  not  to  stop  from  the  time 
they  started  till  they  got  to  the  San  Luis  and  Terras 
Mountains.  They  were  all  warned  to  be  very  careful  on 
the  Mexican  line,  as  Geronimo  knew  that  Micky  and  I 
were  on  the  line  somewhere.  There  is  a  mountain  in 
Sonora,  Mexico,  called  El  Durasnillo.  The  Indians  call 
it  Cu,  and  there  all  the  Indians  were  to  rendezvous. 

This  was  pretty  good  to  know,  so  I  sent  a  scout  in  to 
Major  Burke  and  told  him  what  I  had  learned  as  to  the 
place  the  Indians  would  all  come  together,  and  suggested 
to  him  that  he  immediately  notify  Colonel  Tores,  at  Her- 
mosillo,  Mexico,  to  that  effect,  so  as  to  give  him  a  chance 
to  go  gunning  for  them. 

After  I  started  my  messenger  to  Major  Burke  I  tried 
to  get  Wilder  to  take  my  prisoners  on  to  Ft.  Bowie,  but 
he  would  not  do  it,  as  he  wanted  to  go  on  down  towards 
the  line  and  try  and  find  some  more  Indians.  So  I  had 
to  go  myself  to  Bowie.  I  did  not  like  to  leave  the  line. 
I  knew,  also,  that  all  the  renegades  were  in  the  moun 
tains  safe  across  the  line,  but  I  had  only  ten  men  and  I 
could  not  divide  them  and  do  any  good. 

I  dared  not  send  Micky  in  charge  of  the  prisoners,  for 
he  would  have  killed  all  of  them;  so  I  sent  Micky  and 
another  with  Wilder  and  I  loaded  my  squaws  and  kids 
into  a  Government  wagon  and  pulled  out  for  Bowie. 


A  VINDICATION.  195 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


No  More  Bluff,  but  Real  Old  Business— Civilizing  Geron- 
imo  a  Hopeless  Task — General  Crook  Arrives — Prep 
arations  for  War — A  Side-Trip  Scrimmage — Danger 
and  Irish  Wit,  Guns  and  Tongues — Sergeant  Nolan 
and  the  Indian  "Ladies" — Plan  of  Campaign — Chir- 
icahua  Band,  Bent  on  Vengeance,  Raid  up  to  White 
Mountain  Camp — Hal-Zay  "Loses  His  Head" — Horn 
and  Ten  Scouts  "Hit  the  Trail"— The  Language  of  a 
Cold  Trail:  Tracks,  Side  Trails,  Smell  of  Roasting 
Muscal,  Shadows  of  Camp-Fires  Ten  Miles  Ahead — 
"We  had  Located  the  Main  Camp  at  Last!" — Sending 
for  Captain  Crawford  and  the  Troops. 

When  I  got  there  I  found  Burke  had  wired  Colonel 
Tores,  the  Mexican  commandante  of  Sonora,  Mexico,  and 
I  learned  also,  that  to  the  best  of  Burke's  knowledge  all 
the  rest  of  the  Indians  had  gotten  to  Mexico  in  safety. 
Now,  it  was  no  more  bluff  and  no  more  talk  for  there 
would  have  to  be  a  great  deal  of  campaigning  to  get  rid 
of  the  Indians.  Major  Burke  actually  told  me  he  did  not 
think  Geronimo  could  be  made  to  stay  on  the  Reserva 
tion.  Every  advice  that  the  Government  had  ever  had 
was  that  Geronimo  would  not  stay  on  the  Reservation, 
and  nowhere  else  but  on  the  war  path.  Every  Depart 
ment  Commander  wanted  to  have  the  reputation  of  civi 
lizing  Geronimo.  I  had  helped,  and  in  fact  been  mainly 


106  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

instrumental  in  bringing  him  to  the  Keservation  twice, 
and  he  had  been  brought  up  and  put  there  a  couple  of 
times  before,  and  now  Major  Burke  said  he  did  not  think 
it  was  worth  while  to  try  to  keep  him  there. 

Sieber  knew  that  a  dozen  years  before,  and  had  al 
ways  maintained  that  the  wily  chief  would  have  to  be 
sent  away  if  the  Government  wanted  to  stop  his  raiding, 
and  now  Major  Burke,  Chief  of  Staff  for  General  Crook, 
admitted  as  much. 

I  got  ready  to  start  toward  the  line  again,  but  I  knew 
it  was  too  late  to  do  any  good,  so  Burke  told  me  to  wait 
for  reports  to  come  in  from  the  pursuing  parties,  as  he 
said  there  wrere  several  out,  and  all  of  them  specially  in 
structed  not  to  cross  the  line.  One  of  my  captive  kids 
died  in  a  day  or  two.  It  did  not  belong  to  any  of  the 
women  we  had  and  the  women  would  not  look  after  it. 
It  was  only  about  three  years  old  and  did  not  take  kindly 
to  Government  rations  and  the  guard  house,  so  it  went 
to  the  Happy  Hunting  Ground.  The  rest  were  put  in  the 
guard  house. 

Keports  commenced  to  come  in  that  the  troops  pursu 
ing  the  renegades  had  followed  to  the  Mexican  line  and 
there  abandoned  the  trail  as  per  instructions  from  the 
Department  Commander.  That  was  the  report  of  every 
one  of  the  commands  that  were  in  the  pursuit  of  the  rene 
gades. 

General  Crook  wired  that  he  was  coming  from  Wash 
ington,  and  for  Sieber  and  me  to  meet  him  there  at  Fort 
Bowie.  It  was  two  months  before  he  did  come,  and  that 
threw  us  out  into  1885.  But  General  Crook  was  fixed 
for  war  when  he  did  come.  He  had  had  a  regular  treaty 


A  VINDICATION.  197 

made  with  the  Mexican  Government,  so  we  could  cam 
paign  in  Mexico  the  same  as  in  the  United  States. 

He  ordered  Sieber  and  me  to  San  Carlos  to  enlist 
Apache  scouts  to  go  to  Mexico,  for  we  had  long  before 
decided  that  only  Apache  scouts  could  ever  be  effective 
on  a  campaign  in  the  Sierra  Madres.  We  enlisted  one 
hundred  scouts  of  the  San  Carlos  and  White  Mountain 
tribes  for  a  six  months'  campaign  in  Mexico,  and  all  to 
go  on  foot.  Under  the  new  treaty  we  were  to  have  any 
and  all  stock  that  we  captured  from  the  renegades. 

General  Crook  went  to  work  to  establish  heliograph 
stations  and  started  a  school  in  Bowie  to  teach  men  the 
art  of  heliography.  He  ordered  cavalry  stationed  at  all 
the  principal  watering  places  anywhere  near  the  line, 
and  started  out  just  as  though  he  intended  to  make  good 
his  word  with  Geronimo  in  the  Sierra  Madres.  Three 
pack  trains  and  a  good  many  team  mules  were  sent  to 
Bowie  from  Camp  Carlin,  Wyoming.  Ed  Delaney  was 
boss  of  one  pack  train,  and  John  Patrick  was  in  charge 
of  another,  and  Ben  Groves  had  the  third.  Harvey  Car- 
lyle  was  master  of  transportation. 

Things  did  sure  look  like  war,  and  in  June  we  pulled 
into  Mexico. 

Sieber  had  to  stay  at  home,  as  he  was  crippled  up, 
and  too  old  for  such  hard  work  as  we  had  before  us. 

We  calculated  to  have  a  field  headquarters  and  supply 
depot  at  Nacori,  and  we  went  there.  I  was  busy  all  sum 
mer  getting  stations  located  for  the  heliograph.  We 
made  several  little  side  trips  while  getting  everything 
in  order. 

On  one  of  these  we  ran  onto  a  bunch  of  Indians  in 
camp.  There  was  a  detachment  of  troops  with  us,  or 


198  LIFE  OF   TOM   HORN: 

rather  I  was  with  them.  I  was  looking  for  a  place  to 
put  in  a  connecting  station  for  the  heliograph  we  were  lo 
cating.  The  men  who  were  going  to  do  the  work  at 
the  station  (there  were  about  twenty  of  them)  met  a 
bunch  of  Chiricahuas  in  a  canon.  There  was  no  com 
missioned  officer  with  them,  but  they  made  a  run  at  the 
Indians  and  caught  thirty  women  and  children.  There 
were  only  about  seven  or  eight  bucks  with  the  gang,  and 
the  bucks  all  got  away.  One  of  the  Squaws  was  run  over 
by  a  soldier  and  hurt  so  that  she  died  before  a  doctor 
could  get  his  medicine  to  work  on  her.  Excepting  this 
squaw  (and  a  crippled  pack  mule)  there  were  none 
killed. 

I  got  my  mountain  located  where  I  wanted  to  put 
a  station,  but  could  not  find  my  men  to  put  up  the  glass. 
I  started  out  the  way  I  had  told  the  soldiers  to  come 
and  meet  me,  and  I  was  coming  to  the  conclusion  they 
had  made  a  mistake  and  got  lost,  and  was  thinking  to 
myself  that  they  had  overruled  my  scout  and  gone  to 
suit  themselves,  when  I  began  to  see  all  kinds  of  tracks 
on  the  ground. 

There  were  Indian  tracks  on  foot — large  and  small — 
cavalry  horse  tracks,  pack  mule  tracks,  and  lower  down 
a  dead  pack  mule.  The  tracks  showed  me  plainly 
enough  that  there  had  been  a  fight,  and  soon  I  saw  where 
the  soldiers  had  turned  back,  and  could  see  they  were 
guarding  prisoners.  Then  I  knew  I  would  find  them  at 
Nacori,  so  I  pulled  out  for  there. 

It  was  past  midnight  when  I  got  to  Nacori,  and  Nolan 
had  not  come  in  yet.  I  told  Major  Davis,  who  was  in 
command,  what  had  become  of  his  "shadow  men,"  and 
that  they  had  no  doubt  camped,  and  that  I  had  missed 


A  VINDICATION.  199 

them  in  the  night,  but  that  they  would  be  along  in  the 
morning. 

At  daylight  I  was  on  my  way  back  to  meet  them.  I 
had  a  whole  lot  of  soldiers  and  Apache  scouts  with  me. 
About  9  o'clock  we  saw  them  coming.  There  were  a 
good  many  more  prisoners  than  there  were  guards.  Ser 
geant  Nolan  had  seen  my  Apache  scouts,  and  thinking 
we  might  be  renegades,  he  was  trying  to  get  the  pris 
oners  in  position  so  he  could  hold  them  and  make  a  fight, 
also. 

I  had  with  him  two  Apache  scouts,  and  they  were 
trying  to  make  Nolan  understand  that  we  were  of  his 
own  party.  Nolan  thought  the  scouts  were  frightened, 
but,  as  he  was  not  very  proficient  in  the  Apache  tongue 
(for  he  said  there  were  no  Apaches  in  Ireland!),  and  as 
the  scouts  did  not  know  any  English,  they  could  not 
get  him  to  understand.  Finally  one  of  the  prisoners 
said  to  Nolan:  "You  fool!  He  white  man  soldier!"  No 
lan  then  saw  that  we  were  all  right,  and  he  slacked  up 
and  put  up  his  pistol. 

One  of  the  men  in  his  detachment  used  to  tell  after 
ward  what  Nolan  said  to  the  prisoners  when  he  was  try 
ing  to  get  them  behind  a  reef  of  rocks,  so  he  could  guard 
them  and  make  a  fight  at  the  same  time.  Martin  re 
ported  that  Nolan  said : 

"Ladies,  there  are  people  approaching  that  are  your 
friends  and  are  enemies  of  mine  and  the  United  States 
Government.  Now,  I,  Sergeant  Nolan,  do  order  you  to 
get  behind  that  reef  of  rocks,  and  I  want  you  to  be 
d — d  quick  about  it,  and  not  stand  there  gaping  like  a 
lot  of  low-down  shanty  Irish!  Here,  you  little  black-haired 
imp  of  the  devil,  let  that  pack  horse  go  and  come  along 


200  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  I 

here!  To  h — 1  wid  yer  d — n  talk,  and  do  ye  moind!  You 
think  that  you  will  be  rescued,  do  ye?  Not  while  Nolan 
is  at  the  wheel;  you  won't  lose  your  course.  I  will  order 
a  court-martial  and  hang  every  mother's  son  of  ye  to  the 
yardarm!" 

By  this  time  Martin  said  Nolan  was  getting  so  ex 
cited  he  did  not  know  what  to  do.  He  yelled  to  Martin 
to  shoot  those  two  d — n'd  Apache  scouts.  "They  have 
led  us  into  this  ambush!"  Martin  then  got  Nolan  to 
understand  that  we  were  from  Nacori.  When  Nolan 
did  finally  see  that  we  were  all  right,  he  said:  "God  be 
praised!  I  was  afraid  I  would  have  to  take  a  life,  and 
I  was  using  my  best  judgment  to  act  and  conduct  myself 
as  a  gentleman  before  ladies." 

This  soldier,  Martin,  never  did  get  through  telling 
what  Nolan  did  and  said  there  in  two  minutes.  Nolan 
was  very  much  worried  as  to  what  he  should  do  with  the 
ladies  when  they  camped  for  the  night,  and  he  finally 
went  over  and  told  them  in  the  choicest  Conemara  Irish 
that  he  had  never  read  anything  in  any  article  of  war 
that  would  seem  to  fit  this  peculiar  case,  and  they  would 
have  to  excuse  him,  but  he  could  not  offer  them  any  bed 
steads  to  sleep  upon.  "In  fact,  we  don't  have  any  with 
us,  because  we  did  not  expect  the  honor  or  pleasure  of 
your  company." 

Nolan  never  did  hear  the  last  of  what  he  did  and  said 
on  that  trip;  but  he  "got  the  grapes,"  just  the  same. 

Nolan  was  all  right! 

We  were  very  busy  all  the  summer  of  1885,  getting 
transportation  into  proper  condition,  getting  camps  of 
soldiers  established  at  all  the  principal  water  holes  and 
getting  the  heliograph  in  working  order. 


A   VINDICATION.  201 

When  we  got  the  heliograph  to  working  properly,  we 
could  send  a  message  to  Fort  Bowie  from  Nacori  in  about 
an  hour.  It  had  to  pass  through  seven  stations;  had  to 
be  received  and  sent  again  from  one  to  the  other,  but 
such  was  the  excellence  of  the  management  that  seldom 
was  a  mistake  made. 

I  was  hastily  called  to  Fort  Bowie  after  we  had  all 
the  stations  established  and  working,  and  there  met  Gen 
eral  Crook,  who  was  having  a  battalion  of  Apache  scouts 
enlisted  to  go  to  Mexico  under  Captain  Emmet  Crawford. 
With  Crawford  was  Lieutenant  Marion  P.  Maus,  now  on 
General  Miles's  staff,  and  Second  Lieutenant  Shipp,  who 
was  killed  at  San  Juan  Hill,  in  Cuba,  in  1898,  July  2d. 

The  scouts  were  on  the  road  to  Bowie  from  San 
Carlos  when  I  got  to  Bowie.  General  Crook  said  he 
would  send  for  me  as  soon  as  Crawford  arrived. 

When  Crawford  did  get  t,o  Bowie,  we  were  all  sum 
moned  to  meet  and  talk  to  General  Crook.  He  invited  us 
to  dinner  and  after  dinner  he  told  us  his  idea,  which  was 
to  have  us  go  to  Mexico  and  stay  there  six  months,  and 
when  we  got  on  an  Indian  trail  never  to  leave  it  so  long 
as  we  could  find  one  track  to  follow;  to  strike  the  rene 
gades  as  hard  as  we  could  on  every  occasion;  to  kill  all 
bucks  and  take  all  women  and  children  prisoners;  but 
that  we  must  keep  after  them  all  the  time.  He  then  told 
us  all  the  details  of  arrangements  in  Arizona,  and  he  gave 
Captain  Crawford  a  map  of  all  the  country  where  troops 
were  stationed  and  where  there  were  heliograph  stations. 

It  was  about  December  1st  when  we  finally  left 
Bowie..  We  had  heard,  by  heliograph,  that  a  band  of 
renegades  had  crossed  the  line  close  to  Aqua  Azul,  and 
that  they  were  coming  up  the  country.  We  thought  they 


202  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

would  come  through  the  Dragoon  Mountains,  as  that 
would  be  their  best  route  up  from  where  they  crossed 
the  line.  I  was  now  the  one  who,  as  chief  of  scouts,  had 
to  decide  about  such  things,  and  how  I  did  miss  Sieber, 
for  he  knew  everything! 

I  put  out  men  in  the  Dragoons  and  men  as  far  west 
as  the  Whetstone  Mountains,  to  try  to  get  them  as  they 
came  up,  and  in  that  way  to  keep  them  from  raiding  in 
the  settlements.  Always  before  we  had  been  compelled 
to  wait  until  they  had  done  their  raiding,  and  then  follow 
their  trail  back. 

Our  helio  was  doing  its  work  well.  All  the  settlers 
were  requested  to  notify  the  helio  stations  as  soon  as  any 
Indian  sign  was  seen.  This  was  the  first  bunch  of  In 
dians  we  had  ever  heard  of  as  they  came  up  from  Mexico ; 
and  this  information  came,  thanks  to  the  helio. 

Well,  they  were  a  war  party  bent  on  revenge,  and  not 
on  robbing.  They  were  not  seen  again  until  they  got  to 
the  Reservation  and  there  they  ran  into  old  Nad-is-ki's 
band  in  the  White  Mountains.  The  men  were  nearly  all 
away,  so  they  struck  a  camp  mostly  of  women  and  chil 
dren  and  killed  twenty-one  of  them.  One  of  the  raiders 
was  also  killed,  and  they  cut  his  head  off  and  took  it  into 
Camp  Apache.  It  proved  to  be  Hal-zay,  the  Indian 
Sieber  and  I  met  on  the  Bavispe  River,  when  I  first  went 
with  Sieber  to  the  Chiricahua  camp.  A  party  of  men  had 
gotten  after  them  there  the  next  day,  and  they  had  come 
back  south  and  crossed  the  line  way  up  by  Alamo  Hueco. 

We  headed  then  for  the  Car-Cai,  in  Mexico,  knowing 
they  would  cross  in  there.  Now,  one  thing  we  knew,  and 
that  was  that  they  were  going  to  try  to  do  so  much  dam 
age  to  the  Indians  on  the  Reservation  that  the  Indian 


A   VINDICATION.  203 

men  on  the  Reservation  would  not  go  to  Mexico  to  hunt 
them.  They  made  remarkable  rides  while  up  in  Arizona, 
and  the  troops  were  within  sight  of  them  several  times; 
but  as  there  were  only  eleven  came  up  in  the  first  place 
and  one  of  them  was  killed,  only  ten  of  them  got  back. 
They  did  not  steal  any  horses  except  what  they  had  to 
have  to  make  good  time,  nor  kill  any  one  except  one 
Mormon  at  Ash- Canon. 

Well,  I  struck  their  trail  in  the  Sierra  Madres,  and  as 
it  was  ten  days  old  when  I  struck  it  I  knew  we  would 
have  to  be  very  careful  or  we  would  not  get  up  to  them. 
I  left  the  command  and  took  ten  men  and  pulled  out  on 
the  trail  on  foot.  I  made  arrangements  for  Crawford 
to  wait  two  days  where  we  were  camped  and  then  follow 
on  down  by  Nacori;  then  on  to  the  crossing  of  the  Rio 
Arras. 

I  kept  on  trail  of  the  ten  knowing  they  would  go  to 
the  main  band  to  tell  of  their  raid  on  the  Reservation. 
I  soon  saw  that  they  did  not  know  exactly  where  the 
main  band  was,  and  there  had  been  rain  enough  in  the 
mountains  to  wash  out  any  very  old  trail. 

After  we  got  across  the  Arras  I  struck  more  Indian 
signs,  and  saw  where  quite  a  bunch  of  Indians  had  come 
in  from  Saguaripo  in  that  part  of  the  country;  then  I 
sent  a  man  back  to  tell  Crawford  that  we  wrere  coming 
upon  more  Indians,  and  wrote  him  what  I  knew.  I  also 
told  the  man  I  sent  back  to  bring  the  command  to  the 
mouth  of  a  big  canon  we  could  see  in  the  mountains 
ahead  of  us. 

In  a  few  days  I  found  more  tracks  coming  in,  and 
knew  then  that  the  reason  the  Indians  we  were  following 
did  not  know  exactlv  where  to  find  the  main  band  was 


204  LIFE   OF   TOM   HORN  : 

because  the  main  band,  or  anyhow,  all  the  bucks,  had 
been  raiding  in  Sonora.  All  that  were  coming  in  had 
lots  of  horses. 

Pretty  well  up  the  Arras  we  found  where  a  bunch  of 
cattle  had  been  brought  in  on  the  trail  and  also  found 
where  a  big  lot  of  Indians  had  been  camped  but  had 
Amoved  on  south  into  the  mountains. 

Here  also  all  the  trails  leading  away  had  been  made 
at  the  same  time,  and  then  I  knew  that  we  had  struck 
the  main  bunch.  (There  were  many  beef  carcasses,  show 
ing  they  had  killed  all  the  cattle  and  jerked  the  meat.) 
There  were  about  four  hundred  of  the  Indians,  but  many 
of  them,  as  I  knew,  were  wromen  and  children.  Here  I 
sent  two  men  back  to  Crawford,  and  told  him  all  I  had 
learned  and  asked  him  to  come  with  the  outfit  and  camp 
till  he  heard  from  me  again. 

I  left  the  trail  and  took  up  a  course  parallel  with  that 
of  the  renegades,  for  I  well  knew  their  custom  of  leav 
ing  a  few  men  behind  the  main  party  to  give  warning 
if  any  one  was  in  the  track  of  them.  I  traveled  all  day, 
and  then  at  evening  began  to  cut  across  to  see  if  I  could 
strike  their  trail.  I  sent  a  couple  of  men  to  two  different 
mountain  tops  to  see  if  they  could  see  any  sign  or  shadows 
of  camp  fires.  Two  of  the  scouts  who  went  up  on  one  of 
the  hills  came  back  about  midnight  and  said  they  had 
seen  the  shadow  of  camp  fires  reflected  on  the  clouds  in 
the  sky  and  that  the  Indians  must  be  camped  a  long  way 
up  the  river. 

I  sent  two  more  men  back  now  to  bring  the  outfit  on 
up  to  the  point  where  we  were  and  to  wait  there  for 
further  orders.  We  went  on  the  next  day,  and  about 
noon  we  could  smell  the  smoke  from  pits  where  the  rone- 


A   VINDICATION.  205 

gades  were  roasting  muscal.  Then  we  knew  that  we  were 
getting  very  close  to  the  main  Indian  camp,  as  they  have 
to  take  a  week  generally  to  roast  muscal  and  they  would 
not  be  doing  it  unless  they  felt  very  safe. 

We  lay  off  and  slept  the  rest  of  the  day  after  we  be 
gan  to  smell  Indians,  and  we  calculated  to  do  the  most 
of  our  work  from  that  on,  after  night.  When  night  came 
we  were  all  on  the  highest  point  around  there,  and  as  it 
began  to  get  dark  wre  began  to  see  shadows  of  fires  and 
they  were  not  ten  miles  from  us.  Wre  had  located  the 
camp  at  last. 

NOWT  the  main  thing  to  do  was  to  get  at  them  in  good 
shape.  I  had  only  four  scouts  with  me  now,  but  I  sent 
two  more  back  to  bring  the  command  up  to  where  we 
first  smelled  the  muscal  smoke. 

I  did  not  know  anything  about  where  the  command 
was,  as  I  had  been  sending  wTord  back  to  Captain  Craw 
ford  all  the  time,  but  had  had  no  wrord  from  him.  I  was 
afraid  now  that  he  was  several  days'  travel  behind  me. 

I  did  not  know  Crawford,  but  he  had  a  great  reputa 
tion  as  a  "go-to-'em"  kind  of  a  fellow,  and  no  man  would 
look  at  him  and  call  him  afraid  or  negligent.  He  looked 
good  to  me;  he  had  a  regular  wolf  snap  to  his  jaw. 
Really  the  only  thing  I  was  afriad  of  was  that  the  coun 
try  would  be  too  rough.  W^hen  I  was  leaving  him  fifteen 
days  before,  he  said:  "Now,  Chief,  you  show  me  the 
way,  and  I  will  be  there  on  Hank  Monk  time." 

Well,  I  was  showing  him  the  way,  but  I  had  not  had 
a  chance  to  hear  from  him  and  now  that  I  wanted  him 
I  began  to  be  afraid  he  wrould  be  slow. 

I  took  my  last  two  men  and  struck  out  to  get  close  to 
the  Indians'  camp  and  see  what  we  could  learn  about  it, 


206  LIFE  OF  TOM   HORN: 

by  the  time  daylight  came.  We  were  all  night  getting 
to  a  place  that  suited  me,  and  so  when  we  did  get  where 
we  thought  we  would  be  all  right  we  all  sat  down  and 
went  to  sleep. 

I  woke  as  day  was  breaking  and  was  plenty  cold,  as 
we  had  no  blankets  and  we  had  not  had  anything  to 
eat  except  meat,  for  ten  days.  As  it  began  to  get 
light,  we  could  see  some  fifty  camp  fires,  and  some  of 
them  were  not  a  mile  away  from  us.  We  saw  the  In 
dians  going  around  in  their  own  way,  driving  in  horses, 
and  they  did  have  lots  of  them.  At  first  I  thought  they 
were  going  to  move  camp,  but  I  soon  saw  that  they  were 
merely  getting  in  their  horses  to  accustom  them  to  the 
camp,  as  many  of  the  animals  had  just  been  stolen  and 
were  not  yet  used  to  an  Indian  camp. 

About  9  o'clock  I  had  learned  all  I  could  learn  about 
them  and  the  lay  of  the  land,  so  we  started  back  to  get 
our  own  command.  If  Crawford  was  keeping  up  with 
me,  he  would  not  be  more  than  twelve  miles  away,  and  if 
he  was  not,  it  was  not  my  fault.  About  noon,  or  a  little 
after,  we  were  called  by  one  of  my  scouts  and  he  said 
the  outfit  was  very  close  there,  and  so  it  was.  My  two 
men  and  I  were  very  hungry;  Crawford  had  a  dozen  pack 
mules  with  him,  and  we  soon  had  something  to  eat. 
Everybody  was  pleased  at  the  news  we  brought,  for  the 
command  had  had  a  hard  time  keeping  up  with  my 
orders. 

I  told  Crawford  all  I  knew,  and  he  told  me  to  go  on 
and  finish  the  job.  "You  have  made  a  fine  hunt  of  it  so 
far,  and  you  must  take  command  now,  and  do  your  best, 
is  all  I  can  say." 


A   VINDICATION. 


207 


I  had  everybody  get  ready  for  a  whole  night's  work, 
and  then  I  lay  down  and  went  to  sleep  and  was  wakened 
at  sundown;  one  of  the  packers  gave  me  some  grub,  and 
we  pulled  out. 


208  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 


CHAPTER  XX. 


Forces  Divided  Into  Four  Groups  Under  Crawford,  Maus, 
Shipp  and  Horn — Attack  Upon  Geronimo's  Camp — 
Complete  Rout— A  "Sieber  Bluff"— Horn  Captures 
Nana— The  Old  Chief's  "Growl!"— Geronimo  Sends 
Messenger;  He  Would  Talk — Chiricahua  Squaws  as 
Mourners — Much  Needed  Rest. 


We  got  to  the  camp  all  right,  and  I  broke  the  com 
mand  up  into  four  bunches.  I  took  the  east  side,  and 
sent  Shipp  to  the  west  side.  The  east  side  was  next  to 
the  mountains  and  the  west  side  was  about  a  mile  from 
the  Arras  River.  I  placed  Maus  to  go  to  the  south  side, 
and  left  Captain  Crawford  on  the  north  side.  We  were 
approaching  the  camp  from  the  north.  I  wanted  Lieu 
tenant  Shipp  to  start  the  fight  on  his  side,  next  the  river, 
and  make  the  Indians  come  towards  me,  if  he  could  make 
it  work  that  way;  but  at  the  same  time  I  knew  that  any 
one  of  our  parties  might  run  into  the  Indians,  and  then 
the  row  would  be  on.  Naturally  I  knew  that  the  way 
the  Indians  would  break  would  be  towards  the  rough 
country,  and  the  rough  country  was  on  my  side. 

We  were  all  in  position  before  daylight,  and  all  we 
had  to  do  was  to  wait;  the  longer  we  could  wait  the  more 
light  we  would  have  and  the  better  would  be  the  shoot 
ing. 


A   VINDICATION.  209 

One  thing  that  was  against  me  was  the  eagerness  of 
my  scouts.  I  talked  to  them,  and  warned  them  to  try 
to  keep  from  starting  the  fight  as  long  as  possible,  to 
give  us  better  light,  but  they  were  all  mad  because  of 
the  raid  that  the  renegades  had  made  on  the  Reservation, 
and  the  killing  of  the  women  and  children.  They  all 
knew  that  we  would  capture  some  women  and  children, 
and  I  had  instructed  them  that  they  must  not  kill  any 
women  or  children,  but  to  go  at  the  bucks  and  kill  all 
the  bucks  they  could. 

There  were  dozens  of  horses  scattered  around  every 
where,  and  just  as  it  was  getting  light  we  could  begin 
to  see  the  women  and  children  working  around  among 
the  horses,  and  others  beginning  to  build  fires.  Minutes 
were  worlds  to  me  just  then,  as  it  was  still  too  dark  to 
do  any  good  shooting. 

It  was  just  getting  light  enough  so  we  could  begin  to 
see  everything  quite  clearly,  when  two  big  bucks  came 
directly  towards  where  I  lay.  There  were  four  or  five 
scouts  right  with  me,  but  I  knew  that  every  one  of  my 
twenty-five  scouts  had  a  bead  on  those  two  renegades. 
They  got  up  within  twenty  yards  of  where  I  was,  and 
had  not  yet  seen  one  of  my  men.  No  one  spoke,  but 
everybody  seemed  to  fire  at  once,  and  those  two  bucks 
never  smiled  again. 

Well,  there  were  big  doin's  in  that  camp  for  the  next 
half  hour!  Geronimo  jumped  up  on  a  rock  and  yelled: 
"Look  out  for  the  horses!"  And  a  minute  afterwards  he 
yelled:  "Let  the  horses  go  and  break  towards  the  river 
on  foot!  There  are  soldiers  and  Apache  scouts  on  both 
sides  and  above  us.  Let  the  women  and  children  break 
for  the  river  and  the  men  stay  behind!" 


210  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

Towards  the  river  they  all  ran,  and  I  was  thinking 
that  Lieutenant  Shipp  had  not  got  into  the  place  I  had 
assigned  him,  but  had  got  in  the  wrong  place.  I  could 
hear  old  Geronimo  giving  his  orders  as  plainly  as  though 
he  had  been  by  my  side. 

I  kneW  that  my  scouts  could  hear  and  understand, 
also.  Geronimo  kept  on  yelling  to  his  people:  "Towards 
the  river!  towards  the  river!"  I  began  to  think  I  had 
been  a  fool  to  put  Shipp  on  the  river  side,  and  that  I 
should  have  put  Captain  Crawford  there.  The  time  was 
very  short,  but  it  seemed  ages  to  me.  I  knew  that  a 
scared  Indian  could  outrun  a  mad  one;  that  my  long, 
hard  work  was  about  at  a  close,  and  I  was  thinking  it 
was  too  bad;  I  was  just  saying  to  myself:  "If  Sieber 
were  here  what  a  scientific  lot  of  swearing  there  would 
be!"  Then  my  thoughts  came  to  a  close,  for  I  found 
Shipp,  and  he  was  the  "rightest"  man  in  the  world. 

Shipp  had  a  boy  with  him  that  could  speak  English. 
I  don't  know  how  much  he  could  speak,  but  I  don't  think 
it  was  much.  I  think  it  was  the  opposite  of  much  that 
he  could  speak.  Anyhow,  this  boy,  Charley,  could,  of 
course,  understand  the  renegades,  and  when  the  fight 
started,  and  Geronimo  commenced  to  yell  to  his  people 
to  go  towards  the  river,  Charley  made  Shipp  understand 
it  some  way  or  other,  and  Shipp  and  his  men  lay  still 
till  the  renegades  got  up  within  ten  feet  of  them  before 
they  opened  fire.  Then  they  did  good  work  and  lots  of  it. 

Instructions  to  the  scouts  did  not  amount  to  anything. 
They  shot  everything  in  sight.  Women  and  children  and 
everything  else!  When  I  saw  the  renegades  were  all 
going  directly  away  from  me,  I  told  my  men  to  go  round- 


A   VINDICATION.  211 

ing  in  the  horses,  and  to  yell  to  all  the  scouts  to  look 
out  for  the  horses. 

I  ran  down  the  way  the  renegades  had  gone.  With 
me  was  the  boy,  Chi-kis-in,  the  son  of  old  Pedro,  and  my 
first  friend  among  the  Apaches.  He  was  a  man  now,  and 
was  called  a  good  warrior. 

Shipp  and  his  men  coming  up  in  front  of  the  rene 
gades,  as  they  did,  stopped  them  short,  for  the  renegades 
did  not  know  how  many  scouts  there  were  in  front  of 
them.  They  checked  up  a  few  minutes,  but  Maus  and 
Crawford  were  still  giving  them  a  good,  heavy  fire  from 
both  sides.  Then  Chi-kis-in  and  I  ran  right  into  them 
all,  and  that  did  settle  it!  They  scattered  like  quails. 
"Scatter  and  go  as  you  can!"  yelled  Geronimo. 

I  lost  some  good  shooting  by  running  over  a  little 
ridge  to  where  I  heard  him,  to  try  to  get  a  shot  at  him. 
I  could  not  tell  one  Indian  from  another  they  were  so 
thick,  and  all  running,  and  it  was  sure  enough  run,  too! 
So  I  could  not  distinguish  Geronimo.  Captain  Crawford 
had  told  me  to  try  to  kill  him  if  I  possibly  could,  and  I 
knew  him  so  well  that  I  thought  I  could  recognize  him 
at  any  distance;  but  there  I  was,  convinced  that  all  naked 
Indians  looked  alike  to  a  man  at  some  distance,  and  be 
fore  sunup  at  that. 

When  I  saw  that  I  could  not  pick  out  Geronimo,  I 
followed  along,  shooting  wherever  I  could  see  a  buck  to 
shoot  at,  but  I  was  getting  down  to  where  the  women 
and  children  were,  and  things  were  pretty  badly  mixed 
up.  Shipp  was  right  in  front  of  a  big  lot  of  women  and 
children,  and  could  have  gotten  all  of  them,  but  they 
could  not  surrender,  as  the  scouts  kept  killing  them  so 


212  LIFE   OF    TOM    HORN  : 

fast,  and  when  that  was  stopped  they  were  beginning  to 
stampede. 

Then  I  tried  old  Sieber's  way.  1  ran  down  to  my 
scouts  and  yelled  and  cursed  and  swore,  and  said  some 
awful  things,  so  Shipp  said;  but  I  was  not  on  exhibition. 
I  don't  know  what  I  did  say.  Shipp  said  I  would  yell 
in  Apache  and  then  swear  in  English,  then  more  Apache 
and  then  more  swear!  I  guess  I  was  the  central  figure 
for  a  while,  for  Shipp  said  he  quit  looking  at  the  rene 
gades  and  began  to  watch  me. 

Well,  whatever  I  did  do,  it  had  the  desired  effect.  I 
got  the  scouts  to  stop  shooting  the  women  and  children, 
and  I  got  a  lot  of  the  women  and  children  to  surrender. 
I  think  we  got  only  sixteen  to  surrender;  the  rest  of  them 
wanted  to  but  were  stampeded  by  my  scouts. 

Just  as  we  were  getting  them  rounded  up  I  saw  a 
renegade  trying  to  cross  a  little  open  swale  about  one 
hundred  yards  away,  and  he  was  going  a  little  lame.  He 
was  in  sight  for  a  distance  of  about  ten. feet  only.  1 
ran  and  gained  on  him,  but  he  was  on  one  side  of 
a  little  ridge  and  I  was  on  the  other,  yet  the  gulch  he 
was  in  was  open  and  ran  right  into  the  gulch  I  was  in  a 
couple  of  hundred  yards  below.  I  beat  him  to  the  forks, 
or  met  him  there.  We  were  both  running  and  not  more 
than  twenty-five  yards  apart.  When  I  came  in  sight  of 
him  I  threw  up  my  gun;  he  stopped  dead  still  and  turned 
towards  me.  He  was  old  Nana,  a  formerly  noted  chief 
in  war  and  council,  but  at  this  time  about  ninety 
years  old.  He  said  to  me  as  calmly  as  though  he  were 
going  to  draw  his  rations:  "I  surrender."  Then  he  com 
menced  to  talk  Spanish,  which  he  spoke  with  as  much 
fluonrv  as  the  ordinarv  Mexican. 


A   VINDICATION.  213 

"I  am  old,"  he  said,  "and  no  more  fit  for  war  as  it  is 
waged  now.  At  this  time  of  my  life  all  is  changed. 
Now  the  best  warriors  are  the  ones  who  start  to  run  first, 
and  their  ability  as  warriors  depends  on  the  length  of 
time  they  can  run  after  they  do  get  started.  You  have 
no  men;  I  know  you,  you  are  Sibi's  boy,  son  of  the  man 
of  iron,  and  he  has  taught  you  to  fight  anyhow,  no 
matter  which  is  the  superior  body  of  men,  the  ones  you 
are  with  or  the  ones  you  are  fighting.  Once  the  Apaches 
were  so,  but  now  they  sit  around  the  fires  and  tell  what 
they  will  do  and  what  they  can  do,  and  they  won't  do, 
and  can't  do  anything.  We  had  men  enough  to  make 
you  a  good  fight,  and  we  could  get  away  in  the  dark  after 
we  did  fight  you,  but  no,  these  braves  must  run,  run, 
RUN!" 

The  old  chief  then  commenced  to  laugh.  I  had  been 
grinning  at  him,  for  when  I  had  headed  him  off  he  was 
certainly  making  a  gallant  play  at  a  run  himself,  but  he 
just  could  not  keep  it  up,  as  he  had  been  lame  for  twenty 
years  from  a  wound  in  the  hip. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "now  you  think  I  was  running,  too, 
and  so  I  was,  but  I  will  run  no  more  and  I  will  fight  no 
more." 

I  had  not  made  him  drop  his  gun,  so  he  still  had  it 
in  his  hands.  He  swung  it  over  his  head  and  struck  it 
on  a  rock  and  broke  off  the  stock,  then  kept  on  and  bent 
the  barrel,  threw  it  down  and  said:  "Para  sirvir  usted" 
("At  your  service").  I  told  him  to  come  on  to  camp,  and 
as  several  of  the  scouts  had  come  around,  we  started 
back  toward  where  the  camp  was  when  we  jumped  it. 

Shipp  and  his  prisoners  were  ready  and  we  all  went 
back.  Nana  kept  up  his  roast  on  his  own  people,  telling 


214  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  : 

the  squaws  how  brave  were  the  warriors  under  Ge- 
roniino.  "Look,"  said  he,  "here  are  about  twenty  or 
twenty-five  scouts  who  have  taken  you  prisoners.  Where 
are  your  braves?" 

"They  are  all  gone,"  said  one  of  the  women. 

"Yes,"  said  the  old  chief,  "they  have  gone,  and  they 
now  have  not  got  the  best  of  anything.  They  are  only 
even  with  the  world.  Not  one  of  them  has  even  a  blanket. 
They  have  neither  camp  nor  comfort;  yet,  up  at  Turkey 
Creek  on  the  Reservation,  when  it  was  left  to  you  women 
to  go  on  the  war  path  or  stay  on  the  Reservation,  you  all 
said:  'Mexico,  Mexico,  Mexico.'  I  now  say,  'San  Carlos, 
San  Carlos,  San  Carlos!'  and  there  I  will  stay  and  die, 
and  not  be  trying  to  keep  up  with  your  strong  young 
braves  in  this  great  Mexican  and  American  foot  race. 
Did  you  hear  your  great  chief,  Geronimo?  He  said,  'To 
the  river,  to  the  river!  run  to  the  river!'  Why  did  he 
not  say:  'Fight,  make  the  scouts  go  to  the  river!'  " 

Well,  this  was  only  a  small  part  of  the  cranky,  roast 
ing  talk  of  the  old  chief.  He  said  to  me:  "You  think  the 
Chiricahuas  always  run,  but  I  will  tell  you  there  was 
once  a  Chiricahua  chief  who  said,  'Fight!'  and  his  name 
was  Nana." 

Nana  asked  who  was  the  Captain,  and  I  told  him. 
When  we  got  up  to  where  Crawford  and  Maus  and  the 
scouts  had  all  the  horses  rounded  up,  I  left  Maus  and 
Crawford  to  talk  to  Nana.  Maus  could  talk  some 
Spanish,  and  I  told  Crawford  who  the  distinguished 
prisoner  was;  as  I  was  leaving,  I  heard  Nana  say  to 
Maus:  "My  people  have  just  had  a  big  foot  race  here, 
and  the  fact  of  my  being  old  and  crippled  and  unschooled 
in  the  art  of  winning  a  cause  by  racing  for  it,  the  for- 


A   VINDICATION.  215 

tunes  of  a  war  of  this  kind  have  made  me  your  prisoner. 
I  am  at  your  service,  sir,  and  only  ask  as  a  favor  that 
you  will  allow  me  to  growl  as  much  as  I  want  to.  I  ask 
also,  that  you  will  not  ask  me  anything  regarding  the 
people  that  I  have  passed  nearly  ninety  years  of  my  life 
with,  for,  while  I  don't  admire  their  peculiar  tactics  in 
battle,  they  are  still  my  people." 

I  loved  to  hear  Naiia  growl,  for  he  was  quite  an  in 
genious  kicker,  but  I  had  to  look  after  my  men  and  the 
captured  property,  and  try  to  get  something  to  eat. 

We  had  a  great  many  captured  horses,  but  I  never 
counted  them,  as  my  orders  were  to  kill  most  of  them  so 
that  the  renegades  could  not  get  them  to  live  on.  We, 
of  course,  got  all  the  camp  equipage  of  the  renegades 
and  there  was  a  big  lot  of  plunder  of  one  kind  and 
another.  Of  course,  there  was  a  good  deal  of  quarreling 
about  the  division  of  the  spoils,  and  to  get  everything 
straightened  out  I  had  to  make  another  Sieber's  bluff; 
so  I  arose  in  my  wrath  and  made  the  scouts  pile  up  all 
the  stuff  and  then  I  set  it  on  fire.  I  rounded  up  the 
horses  and  put  a  herd  guard  to  look  after  them,  and  that 
about  squared  everything.  I  then  went  to  look  for 
something  to  eat.  I  found  the  packers  had  come  in,  and 
I  got  a  good  meal,  and  as  it  had  began  to  rain  by  this 
time,  I  got  under  a  piece  of  canvas  stretched  up  by  the 
packers,  and  went  to  sleep. 

I  told  Crawford  to  take  some  men  and  count  the  dead 
Indians,  but  he  said  he  did  not  want  them  counted,  and  as 
I  did  not  care  for  it  myself,  they  were  never  counted  by 
our  party. 

It  was  a  damp,  cloudy,  dismal  day,  and  was  drizzling 
along  in  a  small  way  all  day.  The  stuff  we  found  in  the 


216  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 

Indians'  camp  was  burning  and  sent  up  a  terrible  smoke, 
that  went  straight  up,  and  I  thought  at  the  time  that  it 
could  be  seen  many  miles.  There  were  old  blankets, 
quilts,  clothes,  and  raw-hide  sacks,  such  as  the  Apaches 
used  for  packing,  and  everything  else  that  one  could 
think  of,  stolen  on  different  raids. 

Along  in  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  Crawford  woke 
me,  and  told  me  there  was  a  woman  in  camp  from  the 
renegades  who  had  crossed  the  Arras  Eiver  and  were 
only  a  few  miles  away.  She  said  the  Chiricahuas  wanted 
to  talk  to  Captain  Crawford  and  me.  I  told  her  we 
would  start  away  from  there  on  the  next  day  very  early, 
and  if  Chihuahua  wanted  to  talk,  he  had  better  come  in 
and  do  so.  We  were  out  of  rations  and  would  have  to 
go  to  the  camp  at  Nacori  to  get  more,  and  it  would  be 
five  or  six  days'  travel  the  nearest  way  we  could  go  to 
get  to  Nacori,  but  I  did  not  want  to  tell  them  we  were 
about  out  of  rations. 

I  sent  her  back,  and  told  her  I  would  talk  to  any  or 
all  of  them  next  day.  Nana  said  to  the  woman  to  tell  the 
rest  of  the  renegades  that  he  was  a  captive  and  was  go 
ing  to  San  Carlos.  I  told  him,  not  to  San  Carlos,  but  to 
the  guard  house  in  Fort  Bowie.  Any  place,  he  replied, 
where  he  would  not  have  to  run  foot  races. 

We  had,  I  think,  sixteen  prisoners,  and  some  of  them 
were  cutting  up  a  good  deal  on  account  of  having  seen 
their  people  killed,  and  an  old  squaw  can  always  make 
her  share  of  noise  when  she  is  doing  the  weeping  act. 
They  don't  cry,  they  just  pitch  out  one  long  screeching 
yell  after  another,  all  the  time  lying  flat  on  their  stom 
achs.  A  dozen  of  them  in  camp  is  no  treat. 


A    VINDICATION.  217 

We  were  all  tired  and  worn  out,  more  especially  the 
scouts  who  had  been  with  me,  and  I,  myself,  was  worn 
completely  out.  I  always  tried  to  carry  a  hundred 
rounds  of  cartridges  on  a  trip  where  we  were  working  as 
we  had  to  wrork  there,  for  we  always  calculated  that  if 
we  got  cornered  in  the  day  time,  we  could  make  a  stand 
off  fight  till  night  and  then  get  away.  I  never  did  make 
any  calculations  on  getting  killed.  Well,  a  hundred 
rounds  of  45-70  cartridges  weighs  eleven  pounds  when 
you  first  put  them  on,  and  at  the  end  of  twenty  days,  they 
weigh  about  as  much  as  a  small  sized  locomotive. 

It  kept  raining  all  night,  and  was  still  raining  at 
daylight. 


218  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN: 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


Unwarranted  Attack  by  Mexicans  Under  Corredor — "For 
God's  Sake,  Chief,  Can't  You  Stop  Them?"— The 
Death  of  Captain  Emmet  Crawford — Lieutenant 
Maus  in  Command — Thirty-seven  Killed,  Fifteen 
Wounded — Horn  as  Truce-Bearer — "If  I  am  Harmed, 
My  Apache  Scouts  Will  Kill  Every  Mother's  Son  of 
You!" — A  Mexican  Trick — Coming  to  Terms — Chi 
huahua  Would  Talk — Dissatisfaction  Among  Ge- 
ronimo's  Followers — Burial  of  Crawford — Horn's 
Reputation  Increased — Lieutenant  Maus  Lauds  His 
Chief  of  Scouts. 

All  of  us  began  to  stir  at  daylight,  and  very  shortly 
after  we  saw  Mexican  soldiers  coming  toward  us.  I  saw 
they  were  getting  ready  to  make  a  fight,  and  I  could 
hear  their  orders  as  plainly  as  I  could  hear  Captain 
Crawford's,  who  stood  beside  me.  I  told  the  scouts  to 
get  ready  for  a  scrap,  and  to  listen  to  me  and  do  as  I 
said,  and  not  fire  one  shot  if  they  could  keep  from  it. 

I  heard  the  Mexican  commander  say  to  his  men  to 
throw  out  flankers  on  each  side  of  us,  and  for  some  of 
them  to  get  ready  to  charge.  I  got  Shipp  out  on  one 
side  to  stop  their  flankers,  and  Maus  on  the  other  side 
to  do  the  same,  and  told  each  of  them  to  start  the  game 
when  they  were  compelled  to  for  their  own  protection.  I 
yelled  to  the  Mexicans  many  times,  that  we  were  Ameri- 


A   VINDICATION.  219 

can  troops  from  the  line,  but  that  did  not  stop  them. 
They  must  have  heard  me,  for  Captain  Crawford  and  I 
could  hear  them  plainly.  They  had  formed  for  a  fight 
about  three  hundred  yards  from  us.  We  had  ample  time 
to  get  into  position,  and  we  were  in  a  strong  natural 
fortification.  I  knew  a  thousand  Mexicans  could  not 
move  us. 

Finally,  I  heard  the  commander  ask  if  the  men  were 
all  in  position  for  the  flank  move,  and  the  answer  came 
back  that  they  were  all  waiting. 

"Follow  me,  valientes!"  cried  the  Mexican  Captain, 
and  at  us  they  came  on  a  run  across  a  little  basin, 
directly  toward  us. 

Crawford  said,  "My  God,  Chief,  can't  you  stop  them? 
These  scouts  will  kill  them  all !" 

I  ran  out  towards  them,  and  Crawford  jumped  up 
higher  still,  on  a  big  prominent  rock,  and  had  a  white 
handkerchief  in  his  hands.  He  could  not  speak  Spanish, 
but  he  could  swear  in  a  moderately  clever  way,  not  like 
Sieber  or  Chaffee,  but  still  he  was  doing  very  well.  I 
kept  on  talking  to  the  Mexicans  all  the  time,  and  was 
also  talking  to  the  scouts  and  telling  them  not  to  fire. 

When  they  reached  the  middle  of  the  basin  the  Mexi 
cans  began  to  shoot.  Some  would  stop  and  shoot,  and 
then  come  on  towards  us  on  a  trot,  and  others  would 
do  the  same,  so  that  some  were  coming  on  a  trot  and 
some  were  firing  all  the  time. 

One  of  my  scouts  yelled  to  me  to  come  back,  that 
Crawford  was  killed.  I  was  half-way  down  meeting  the 
Mexicans,  and  was  out  in  the  opening.  I  was  wrondering 
why  it  was  that  they  did  not  hit  me,  and  then  all  at 


220  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  I 

once  I  wondered  no  more,  for  I  was  struck  in  the  arm. 
My  scouts  saw  I  was  hit,  and  they  yelled,  "Come  back!" 

I  did  not  start  right  away,  although  the  Mexicans 
were  within  fifty  feet  of  me,  but  I  yelled  to  my  scouts 
to  give  it  to  them!  All  my  scouts  seemed  to  shoot  at 
once,  and  how  it  did  paralyze  those  Greasers!  They  went 
down  in  groups  and  bunches!  Their  advance  was 
stopped  as  though  they  had  come  to  the  end.  Some  of 
my  scouts  wanted  to  be  down  where  I  was;  and,  Chi-kis-in 
and  about  a  dozen  came  down  and  kept  on  shooting  at 
some  of  the  wounded  Mexicans  who  were  trying  to  crawl 
away. 

I  believe  the  Mexicans  afterwards  said  there  were 
thirty-six  killed  and  thirteen  badly  wounded.  There  were 
one  hundred  and  fifty-four  Mexicans,  so  they  said  later. 
After  all  the  Mexicans  had  gotten  out  of  sight,  one  of 
them  yelled  over  to  us: 

"O,  you  white  man  that  talks  Mexican,  I  want  to  talk 
to  you." 

I  said,  "What  do  you  want?  I  spoke  to  you  many 
times  and  you  would  not  answer." 

They  replied,  "Now  we  want  to  talk." 

I  had  gone  over  to  where  I  had  left  Captain  Craw 
ford  standing  on  a  rock.  Some  of  the  Indians  had  said 
that  he  had  been  killed,  and  I  wanted  to  see  if  it  were 
true 

The  scouts  told  me  he  was  lying  out  in  front  of  a 
big  pile  of  boulders.  I  ran  around  there,  and  sure 
enough,  there  he  lay.  Shot  in  the  center  of  the  forehead, 
a  glancing  shot,  but  it  had  torn  out  a  whole  lot  of  his 
brains — I  should  say  as  much  as  a  handful. 


A   VINDICATION.  221 

When  I  stepped  around  to  where  he  lay  I  guess  I 
was  in  plain  view  of  the  Mexicans,  as  they  commenced 
to  shoot  at  me  again,  and  I  tried  to  get  Crawford  back, 
but  I  had  only  one  arm  that  I  could  use,  and  I  could  not 
lift  him.  I  could  not  get  the  scouts  to  help  me,  as  they 
do  not  like  to  do  anything  with  a  wounded  man.  So  1 
had  to  drag  him  with  one  hand.  It  was  about  fifty  feet 
from  there  to  the  sheltering  rocks,  but  I  finally  got  him 
around  there.  He  was  unconscious.  I  poured  a  little 
water  down  his  throat,  but  he  did  not  revive  any. 

The  fight  was  going  on  again  quite  briskly,  and  it  was 
not  worth  my  while  to  try  to  stop  it!  Chi-kis-in  came  to 
me  and  wanted  to  scatter  out  our  men  and  go  after  the 
Mexicans  and  kill  all  of  them,  but  I  talked  to  them  and 
told  them  not  to  do  so  until  I  ordered  them. 

Old  Nana  came  crippling  up  to  me  and  said: 

"Captain,  though  I  am  a  prisoner  and  an  old  man,  1 
would  like  to  take  the  rifle  and  ammunition  of  the  dead 
Captain  and  help  to  entertain  the  Mexicans." 

I  gave  him  the  gun  and  belt  and  told  him  to  do  as  I 
told  him,  or  rather  as  I  told  the  rest  of  the  scouts.  He 
said,  "I  will  do  so.  If  this  is  a  fight  to  the  death,  here  I 
will  die,  for  I  will  never  be  shamed  by  running,  as  I  did 
yesterday." 

I  went  around  among  my  scouts  and  told  them  not 
to  waste  their  ammunition  too  freely,  as  we  were  in  the 
Mexicans'  country,  and  two  weeks'  travel  from  the  line, 
and  may  be  the  Mexicans  had  taken  in  all  our  command. 
I  did  not  know,  and  could  not  guess,  why  we  had  been 
attacked.  I  thought  Mexico  and  the  United  States  were 
at  war,  and  that  we  were  in  it.  I  was  sure  the  Mexicans 
did  not  want  to  do  anything  but  fight,  and  I  knew,  also, 


222  LIFE  OF  TOM   HORN: 

that  my  men  were  wanting  to  advance  awfully  bad,  and 
I  knew,  also,  that  if  I  did  let  my  scouts  go  they  would 
kill  all  of  the  Mexicans,  or  nearly  all,  as  an  Apache  has 
no  fear  of  Mexicans. 

I  went  and  saw  Lieutenant  Maus,  and  had  a  talk  with 
him,  and  told  him  how  things  were. 

We  could  not  make  out  why  we  were  attacked  by  the 
Mexicans,  unless  Mexico  had  declared  war  against  our 
country,  and,  as  we  had  left  Bowie  on  December  1,  1885, 
and  it  was  now  January  11,  1886,  we  had  not  had  any 
word  for  a  long  time  from  the  line. 

Maus  was  now  in  command,  as  Crawford  was  dying, 
and  I  asked  him  if  I  should  turn  the  Indians  loose  and 
make  a  ramp  on  the  Mexicans.  Maus  said  to  speak  to 
them  again,  and  if  they  did  not  answer,  to  do  as  I  wanted 
to,  which,  I  tell  you,  meant  go  to  'em! 

Just  then  I  caught  sight  of  Lieutenant  Shipp  and  his 
bunch  of  scouts,  right  around  over  where  the  Mexicans 
were,  and  in  a  splendid  commanding  position.  I  could 
see  that  the  Mexicans  were  getting  excited,  also,  and  so 
I  spoke  to  them  and  asked  them  how  they  liked  the 
entertainment.  One  of  the  Mexicans  asked  me  who  we 
were,  and  I  told  him  we  were  a  bunch  of  sports  down 
from  the  United  States,  looking  for  some  game,  and 
thanked  him  for  the  nice  little  time  we  were  having,  and 
invited  him  to  get  his  "valientes"  together  again,  and  try 
another  charge. 

He  asked  me  what  those  Apaches  were  doing,  get 
ting  up  over  them,  and  I  told  him  that  if  they  did  not 
charge  or  run  soon,  my  men  were  going  to  try  it,  and  see 
how  charging  went;  but  as  we  were  now  on  three  sides 


A   VINDICATION.  223 

of  them,  and  a  steep  ledge  in  front  of  them,  that  they  had 
better  act  as  though  they  had  some  sense. 

"What  do  you  want?"  asked  the  Mexicans. 

"Everything  you  have,"  replied  I. 

They  talked  awhile  among  themselves,  and  then  they 
asked  what  the  soldier  they  saw  (meaning  Crawford)  and 
I  were  doing  with  the  Apaches.  I  told  them  that  our 
business  originally  had  been  to  hunt  down  renegade 
Chiricahuas,  but  that  we  were  attacked  by  their  outfit 
and  that  we  had  to  defend  ourselves,  which  we  were  per 
fectly  able  and  willing  to  do. 

Just  here  a  loud  yell  broke  out  on  the  side  of  the  Mex 
icans  that  we  did  not  have  guarded,  and  old  Geronimo 
bobbed  up  and  began  to  call  to  me.  He  shouted  to  me 
to  give  the  word,  and  we  would  all  strike  the  Mexicans 
at  once  and  kill  them  all  and  get  their  pinole.  Mexi 
cans,  when  they  go  upon  a  campaign  or  trip,  take  only 
pinole,  a  kind  of  parched  meal,  and  the  Indians  all  like 
it — would  do  anything  to  get  it.  Some  of  Geronimo's 
men  began  to  talk  to  the  Mexicans  in  Spanish.  I  could 
easily  distinguish  old  Jose  Maria  among  them. 

The  Mexicans  were  getting  pretty  badly  worked  up  by 
this  time  and  they  asked  me  to  come  over  there  to  their 
camp.  I  went  and  saw  Maus  and  told  him  I  was  going 
over,  and  then  I  told  the  scouts  that  I  was  going  and  to 
be  sure  to  kill  all  the  Mexicans  if  they  killed  me.  I  told 
Geronimo,  also,  that  I  was  going  into  the  Mexican  camp, 
and  I  heard  Jose  Maria  tell  the  Mexicans  that  if  they 
harmed  me  that  the  scouts  and  renegades  would  combine 
and  kill  every  mother's  son  of  them! 

Then  I  walked  over.  I  went  in  among  them  and  asked 
where  their  commander  was,  and  they  said  that  he  lay 


224  LIFE  OF   TOM   HORN  : 

dead  on  the  field  of  battle.  I  told  them  we  had  not  had 
a  battle  yet,  only  a  skirmish;  that  if  their  commander 
had  been  killed  they  had  better  go  back  home  and  get  a 
new  one;  that  we  were  the  same  as  Mexican  troops,  as 
we  were;  and  were  allowed  all  the  rights  and  privileges 
of  Mexican  troops  within  certain  limits  and  that  we  were 
within  those  limits,  and  that  on  this  occasion,  by  our 
treaty,  our  rights  and  privileges  were  equal  to  their  own. 
I  told  them  that  they  had  come  and  attacked  us,  and  that 
we  had  merely  defended  ourselves. 

One  of  them  then  asked  me  who  I  was,  and  I  told  him. 
"Well,"  he  said,  "we  don't  know  anything  of  this  treaty 
you  are  talking  about,  but  we  think  it  is  all  right,  and  we 
will  let  it  go,  though  we  have  had  many  men  killed  and 
among  them  is  Don  Maurice  Corredor,  the  bravest  man 
that  ever  lived.  We  will  have  to  take  you  with  us  to 
the  city  of  Chihuahua  to  settle  this  thing." 

I  told  them  that  I  would  have  to  decline  the  order  or 
invitation,  whichever  it  was,  and  they  said  they  would 
take  me  anyhow,  and  that  I  was  their  prisoner! 

Geronimo  was  closer  to  me  than  my  own  men  and  I 
spoke  to  him  and  told  him  what  these  Mexicans  were 
talking  of  doing,  and  he  yelled  to  my  scouts  what  I  had 
told  him,  and  in  a  minute  every  scout  and  renegade  com 
menced  to  yell  and  get  ready  for  an  advance.  The  Mex 
icans  asked  me  what  the  Indians  were  doing,  and  I  told 
them  that  I  was  chief  of  the  Indians,  and  they  did  not 
propose  to  see  me  taken  away. 

"What  did  you  say  to  the  Indians?"  asked  the  Mexi 
cans.  I  informed  them  that  I  had  told  the  Indians  I 
was  a  prisoner.  The  Mexicans  could  see  that  they  were 


A   VINDICATION.  225 

surrounded  and  that  they  would  be  exterminated  in  a 
few  minutes  more 

"We  will  kill  you,"  said  one  of  them,  "if  the  Apaches 
fire  upon  us." 

"I  know  you  will,"  replied  I,  "and  I  know,  also,  that 
you  will  never  smile  again  after  you  do  kill  me,  for  no 
one  but  myself  can  handle  or  control  those  Indians,  and 
when  they  know  I  am  killed  you  will  all  be  killed.  Not 
one  of  you  will  escape." 

All  the  Indians  were  closing  in  now,  and  one  Mexican 
said  to  me:  "Go  quick  and  stop  them,  and  then  come 
back  and  see  if  we  can  not  fix  this  thing  up." 

I  called  to  Geronimo  not  to  fire  till  I  told  them,  or 
till  they  saw  me  fall.  I  was  in  plain  sight  of  the  Chiri- 
cahuas  and  of  most  of  the  scouts,  and  I  stepped  up  where 
I  could  be  more  plainly  seen  by  all  of  them.  I  then  asked 
the  Mexicans  if  they  did  not  think  it  unnecessary  to  take 
me  to  the  city  of  Chihuahua,  as  my  presence  was  very 
necessary  there  with  my  scouts. 

"Have  you  not  got  a  commissioned  officer  with  your 
outfit?"  asked  one,  and  I  told  him  that  there  were  two 
of  them  with  the  scouts. 

"You  go  over  and  take  care  of  the  scouts,  and  send 
one  of  the  officers  over  and  let  us  talk  to  him." 

"Neither  of  them  can  talk  Mexican,"  said  I. 

"Well,  if  you  can  control  the  Indians,  go  on  back  to 
them,"  said  one  of  the  Mexicans. 

I  went  back  and  told  Maus  all  about  the  whole  busi 
ness;  also  that  the  Mexicans,  such  as  were  there,  were 
a  very  uncertain  lot  and  would  not  do  to  trust.  Maus 
asked  me  to  go  and  get  one  of  the  prominent  Mexicans 
to  come  over  and  talk  to  him.  I  went  back  to  the  Mex- 

8 


226  LIFE  OF   TOM   HORN! 

lean  camp  and  asked  them  to  send  over  a  man  or  two, 
or  a  dozen  if  they  liked,  to  talk  to  our  officer. 

Two  of  them  concluded  to  go.  Jose  Maria,  of  the 
Chiricahuas,  asked  me  what  we  were  going  to  do,  and  I 
told  him.  "May  I  come  over,  too,  and  hear  what  they 
have  to  say?"  And  I  told  him  yes,  to  come  on.  Jose 
Maria  came  down  and  the  four  of  us  went  over  to  our 
camp.  I  introduced  them  to  Maus  and  told  them  who 
Maus  was.  The  Mexicans  then  told  Maus  that  they  had 
made  a  mistake  and  did  not  know  we  were  from  the 
United  States,  that  they  were  sorry  for  what  they  had 
done,  and  that  they  had  suffered  a  much  more  serious 
loss  than  we  had,  as  Maurice  Corredor  was  a  great  man 
and  would  be  a  great  loss  to  Mexico.  I  did  not  tell  them 
of  Crawford  being  shot.  They  wanted  to  know  if  we  had 
any  men  killed  and  I  called  a  scout  that  had  gotten  a 
shot  in  the  wrist,  and  told  him  there  were  our  wounded. 

The  Mexicans  did  not  know  what  to  do  and  I  could 
not  see  that  we  were  doing  any  good,  so  I  told  them  to 
go  on  back  to  their  camp.  We  had  not  had  any  break 
fast  and  it  was  10  o'clock  by  this  time,  so  we  went  to 
work  to  get  something  for  all  hands. 

Along  about  noon  a  Mexican  came  over  and  asked  if 
I  could  let  our  doctor  go  over  and  attend  to  their 
wounded.  I  told  Dr.  Davis  he  could  do  as  he  liked,  and 
he  went  over  and  dressed  a  whole  lot  of  wounds  for  them. 
Dr.  Davis  said  one  of  them  was  shot  eight  times.  While 
Dr.  Davis  was  over  there,  one  of  them  came  over  and 
asked  for  Maus  to  go  over,  as  they  wanted  to  talk  to 
him.  I  told  Maus  not  to  go,  as  he  could  not  do  any  talk 
ing  to  amount  to  anything,  but  he  said  he  would  go,  and 
go  he  did. 


A   VINDICATION.  227 

About  the  time  Mans  went  over,  Dr.  Davis  came  back 
and  said  he  did  not  like  the  looks  of  things.  That  the 
Mexicans  did  not  treat  him  right.  Presently  Maus  sent 
over  a  note,  saying  he  was  held  prisoner;  that  the  Mexi 
cans  wanted  us  to  divide  our  rations  with  them;  they 
wanted  our  mules  to  carry  their  wounded  and  they 
wanted  everything  we  had. 

They  talked  of  taking  him  to  Chihuahua.  I  told  the 
Mexican  who  came  over  with  the  note,  to  go  over  and 
get  men  to  take  the  mules  and  grub  back;  told  him  to 
bring  four  or  five  men.  This  he  did,  and  the  man  who 
came  back  to  receive  the  mules  and  rations  said  he  was 
the  man  now  in  charge  of  the  Mexicans. 

He  had  four  men  with  him,  making  five  altogether. 
I  told  them  that  I  was  surprised  that  they  should  hold 
Lieutenant  Maus  as  they  were  doing,  and  he  told  me  that 
they  were  bound  to  have  their  own  way,  and  we  had 
better  not  make  any  trouble.  I  told  him  if  that  was 
their  game,  they  should  see  how  it  was  going  to  work. 
I  told  them  to  get  upon  a  rock  that  was  close  by. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?"  asked  their  spokesman. 

"You  are  playing  a  Mexican  trick  of  bluff  on  us,"  said 
I,  "and  I  am  going  to  show  you  what  joy  means." 

I  made  them  get  up  on  the  rock,  and  then  I  called  old 
Nana  and  Jose  Maria,  and  about  a  dozen  of  my  scouts, 
and  told  them  to  get  ready  to  do  as  I  told  them. 

I  told  them  that  as  soon  as  I  gave  the  word,  I  wanted 
them  all  to  shoot  into  the  Mexicans.  By  this  time  the 
Mexicans  could  see  that  they  were  going  to  be  executed. 
I  told  them  to  call  over  to  their  comrades  and  tell  them 
just  the  kind  of  a  fix  they  were  in,  and  after  they  told 


228  LIFE    OF    TOM    HORN  I 

them  that  Lieutenant  Maus  must  be  sent  back  in  one 
minute,  or  I  would  allow  the  Apaches  to  shoot  them. 

The  man  then  commenced  to  tell  his  companions  how 
things  were,  and  that  they  would  surely  be  killed  in  a 
minute  if  Maus  did  not  appear. 

For  many  a  day  we  laughed  at  the  way  that  Mexican 
did  talk!  Nana  and  Jose  Maria  were  also  telling  them 
that  they  were  all  the  same  as  dead  men  already,  and 
how  much  pleasure  they  were  going  to  have.  I  did  not 
wait  long  till  I  told  them  that  it  was  no  use;  that  their 
friends  had  quit  them,  and  they  would  have  to  die. 
Their  friends  wanted  to  talk,  but  I  told  them  "No  savvy," 
and  it  was  getting  time  for  my  lieutenant  to  be  coming. 

The  talk  of  this  man  sounded  so  sincere  that  the  lieu 
tenant  came  over  and  said  that  the  Mexicans  were  doing 
a  lot  of  bluffing  on  him,  but  they  would  not  do  any  more. 
Maus  said  the  Mexicans  demanded  everything  when  he 
got  over  there,  and  he  could  not  talk  much  Spanish,  and 
the  Mexicans  could  not  understand  a  word  of  American, 
and  I  guess  there  had  been  big  doin's. 

Well,  that  ended  the  row.  I  told  the  Mexicans  to 
come  over  and  get  a  lot  of  extra  horses  I  had,  and  I  took 
about  forty  head  of  the  best  and  turned  the  rest  of  the 
captured  horses  (and  there  must  have  been  three  hun 
dred  of  them)  over  to  the  Mexicans. 

The  Mexicans  came  from  the  Chihuahua  side  of  the 
Sierra  Madre,  and  the  horses  belonged  to  the  Sonora  side, 
but  I  was  not  going  to  take  any  more  horses  to  the  line 
or  to  Bowie,  as  I  already  had  enough  of  that. 

Late  that  evening  the  Mexicans  pulled  out,  and  I  sent 
half  a  dozen  scouts  to  follow  and  watch  them.  They 
were  in  very  bad  shape,  as  they  had  a  good  many 


A   VINDICATION.  229 

wounded.  I  let  old  Jose  Maria  go  back  to  the  renegades, 
and  told  him  to  tell  Chihuahua,  and  any  others  who 
wanted  to  talk  to  me,  to  come  on  the  next  day  to  where 
we  would  camp. 

Crawford  was  unconscious,  and  remained  so  till  he 
finally  died,  three  days  later.  He  had  a  great  hole  in 
his  head,  and  it  looked  as  though  a  handful  of  brains  had 
been  shot  out;  but  with  all  that,  he  lived  until  the  third 
day,  and  died  while  on  the  way  out  of  the  mountains. 
We  were  carrying  him  in  a  travels,  carried  by  pack 
mules.  We  were  rather  a  sorrowful  lot  ourselves,  as  we 
pulled  towards  home.  We  did  not  want  to  bury  Craw 
ford  there  in  the  mountains,  so  we  were  taking  him  out 
to  the  nearest  settlement,  which  was  Nacori. 

I  had  sent  five  scouts  on  ahead  with  dispatches  from 
Maus  to  our  camp  at  Nacori,  and  two  others  we  sent  to 
General  Crook.  From  Nacori  we  could  send  in  helio 
dispatches,  and  by  the  time  we  arrived  at  Nacori  with 
the  body  of  Captain  Crawrford,  all  the  world  knew  of  his 
death,  and  how  it  came  about. 

We  buried  Crawford  at  Nacori.  The  packers  and  sol 
diers  had  the  grave  prepared  when  we  arrived  there  with 
the  body.  His  body  was  taken  up  the  next  summer  and 
sent  to  either  Lincoln  or  Beatrice,  Nebraska,  where  his 
mother  and  sister  lived,  and  I  have  always  understood 
that  it  was  buried  at  Lincoln. 

To  go  back  to  the  Chiricahuas.  As  we  went  into 
camp,  the  first  day  after  we  left  the  battle  ground,  a 
woman  came  and  told  me  Chihuahua  was  close  there, 
and  for  me  to  come  out,  as  he  wanted  to  see  me.  I  told 
Maus  I  was  going  out  to  see  him,  and  he  told  me  to 


230  LIFE   OF    TOM    HORN: 

do  as  I  liked,  and  to  come  back  and  see  him,  and  tell  him 
what  Chihuahua  wanted. 

I  went  with  the  squaw,  and  joined  the  chief,  and  he 
said  he  would  follow  Geronimo  no  more,  as  Geronimo 
was  "all  on  the  run  and  drink  muscal."  He  said  Geron 
imo  was  the  war  chief,  and  it  was  the  custom  of  all  other 
chiefs  to  obey  the  order  of  the  war  chief.  He  said  Geron 
imo  was  too  much  on  the  talk;  and  gave  me  to  under 
stand  that  he  was  going  to  follow  him  no  more. 

He  wranted  me  to  make  arrangements  for  him  to  meet 
General  Crook  and  talk  to  him,  and  said  he  would  be  a 
renegade  no  more.  Chihuahua  was  one  of  the  most  de 
termined,  and  of  the  best  hereditary  standing  of  any 
chief  in  the  Chiricahua  tribe,  but  he  never  aspired  to  rank 
high  as  chief.  Natchez  and  Chihuahua  were  half  broth 
ers,  and  both  of  them  grandsons  of  old  Cochise,  the  most 
noted  of  all  old-time  Chiricahua  chiefs. 

Natchez  was  the  greatest  warrior,  and  the  best  man 
physically,  in  the  bunch  of  renegades;  he  was  also  a 
man  of  great  personal  pride  and  courage.  So,  knowing 
his  pride,  I  asked  Chihuahua  to  try  to  see  if  he  could  not 
get  Natchez  to  come  with  him.  He  said  he  would  see, 
but  that  he  thought  Natchez  would  consider  himself 
bound  to  stay  with  Geronimo.  I  did  all  I  could  in  a  talk, 
and  made  arrangements  to  bring  General  Crook  to  meet 
him  in  the  full  of  the  March  moon,  at  the  San  Bernar 
dino  Peak.  I  told  him  I  could  not  be  sure  General 
Crook  could  come,  but  that  I  would  take  his  message 
to  him. 

That  evening  several  more  women  and  children  came 
in  and  said  they  were  going  back  with  us.  We  had  now 
about  twenty-five  prisoners  to  take  back.  I  never  put 


A   VINDICATION.  231 

them  under  guard  at  all,  as  they  were  all  willing  to  go, 
and  they  were  perfectly  contented  when  not  within  the 
sound  of  Geronimo's  voice.  Geronimo  certainly  had  an 
influence  over  them  that  controlled  them  when  he  was 
with  them,  but  once  away  from  him,  they  would  do  as 
they  pleased.  Now,  for  the  first  time,  I  could  begin  to 
see  dissatisfaction  in  the  renegade  camp,  and  that  was 
what  I  wanted  to  see. 

At  that  camp  on  the  Arras,  where  we  jumped  Geron 
imo,  he  could  easily  have  given  us  a  licking,  or  else  a 
stand-off,  had  he  made  a  fight,  and  all  the  Indians  in  the 
renegade  camp  thought  that  I  had  planned  the  fight  to 
come  off  just  as  it  did,  and  ran  them  down  the  draw 
among  my  best  scouts. 

It  was  true,  I  did  send  some  of  my  best  men  with 
Shipp,  but  I  did  it  because  Shipp  was  young  and  inex 
perienced,  and  I  thought  he  would  need  good  men  to 
take  care  of  him,  as  I  was  sure  we  would  have  a  hard 
fight.  Of  course,  I  never  let  on  but  that  everything  came 
out  as  I  wanted  it  to. 

Maus  and  Shipp  knew  different,  but  as  they  could  not 
talk  to  either  the  scouts  or  the  renegades,  they  could 
not  give  me  away,  and  I  took  advantage  of  the  wisdom 
I  was  supposed  to  have  displayed.  Then,  too,  the  rene 
gades  all  began  to  think  more  of  me  because  I  had  headed 
off  the  scouts  and  would  not  let  them  kill  any  more 
women  and  children;  and,  taking  it  altogether,  I  was 
getting  to  be  a  great  man  in  my  own  estimation! 


["Personal  Recollections  of  General  Miles:"  On  page  471, 
Captain  Maus,  in  his  account,  says:  "I  can  not  commend  too 
highly  Mr.  Horn,  my  chief  of  scouts.  His  gallant  services  de 
serve  a  reward  which  he  has  never  received."] 


232  LIFE   OF    TOM    HORN: 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


Maus  and  Horn  Report  to  General  Crook  at  Bowie- 
Surrender  of  Chihuahua — Geronimo  Returns  to  War 
path — Crook  Superceded  by  Miles  as  Department 
Commander — Horn  Reduced  From  Chief  of  Scouts  to 
Interpreter — He  Resigns  and  Goes  to  Mining — Horn 
Recalled  by  Personal  Letter  From  Miles — An  Excit 
ing  Indian  Chase — Horn  Brings  Geronimo  and  Dis 
patches  for  Miles — Miles  Will  Not  Do  Business 
Through  a  Civilian — Geronimo  Will  Not  Do  Business 
Through  a  Soldier — Horn  Leaves  Camp — Dispatch 
From  Miles  to  Horn:  "Make  Your  Own  Arrange 
ments  for  Me  to  Meet  Geronimo." — Horn  Persuades 
the  Renegade  Chief  to  a  Second  Interview — Geronimo 
Surrenders — Remarkable  Feat  of  Wasse — The  Scouts 
Disbanded — Horn  Returns  to  Mining. 

Well,  after  getting  to  Nacori  and  burying  Crawford, 
we  hired  a  large  room  in  the  town,  our  camp  being  sev 
eral  miles  from  there.  We  put  all  the  supplies  in  the  big 
room,  left  a  guard  of  soldiers  there,  and  wre  all  pulled 
out  for  the  line.  I  guess  General  Crook  ordered  the 
storing  of  the  rations  in  Nacori  for  future  use.  I  did 
not  know  anything  about  that. 

We  were  stopped  at  the  Batipita  Ranch  as  we  were 
on  our  way  up,  to  wait  there  with  the  command  till  Maus 
and  I  could  go  to  Bowie  and  report  in  person  to  General 


A   VINDICATION.  233 

Crook.  Maus  and  I  left  the  command  and  went  on  in 
and  had  a  long  talk  with  the  General,  and  I  told  him  of 
the  dissatisfaction  among  the  Chiricahuas,  and  he  made 
arrangements  to  come  down  as  soon  as  he  was  notified 
by  helio  that  the  renegades  were  on  hand. 

Maus  and  I  then  went  back  and  established  camp  on 
the  San  Bernardino  Creek,  about  twelve  miles  below  the 
line,  to  wait  for  the  March  moon.  We  would  have  to 
wait  about  six  or  seven  wreeks.  A  long  and  tedious  wait 
it  was,  with  a  message  coming  in  from  General  Crook 
every  day  to  see  if  we  had  heard  anything.  We  had  a 
helio  station  in  camp. 

At  last  the  welcome  signal  came.  It  was  on  the  San 
Bernardino  Peak.  And,  though  it  came  at  9  o'clock  at 
night,  I  started  out  right  away  to  go  and  find  the  mes 
senger. 

I  found  him  to  be  a  young  buck,  who  said  he  was  a 
nephew  to  Chihuahua.  He  said  that  Chihuahua  would 
be  there  whenever  I  said  the  w7ord.  I  sent  him  word  to 
be  there  in  four  days,  and  then  went  back  to  report  to 
General  Crook  by  helio. 

General  Crook  sent  word  back  he  would  be  there  at 
the  appointed  time,  and  I  went  on  back,  leaving  the  Gen 
eral  to  follow.  General  Crook  was  very  anxious,  for,  as 
I  learned  later,  the  Department  was  hurrying  him  up  as 
much  as  they  could,  and  he  was  depending  upon  me.  But 
I  could  not  hurry  the  renegades;  and  so  it  stood. 

When  the  appointed  day  came  along,  all  parties  wrere 
on  hand  and  Chihuahua  said  that  he  did  not  have  any 
more  talk  to  make,  but  that  he  was  willing  to  go  to  the 
guard  house  and  stay  there  till  Geronimo  came  in,  for 
he  said  Geronimo  would  not  stay  out  long  now,  as  many 


234  LIFE  OP  TOM  HORN: 

of  the  men  with  him  were  much  dissatisfied.  There  were 
about  twenty-five  men  and  a  good  many  more  women  and 
children  with  Chihuahua. 

All  at  once  there  was  some  commotion  up  on  the 
Peak  and  a  big  bunch  of  renegades  came  into  sight  com 
ing  to  our  talk.  Geronimo  was  at  their  head.  The  desire 
to  make  a  peace  talk  was  too  strong  in  him  to  miss  the 
chance. 

I  asked  Geronimo  if  he  had  come  in  to  surrender  and 
he  replied  by  telling  me  to  take  him  to  General  Crook. 
This  I  did,  and  he  wanted  to  make  a  great  long  talk  about 
the  way  he  was  treated  up  on  Turkey  Creek,  and  General 
Crook  asked  him  what  he  wanted  to  do,  and  Geronimo 
said  he  wanted  to  have  an  understanding.  General 
Crook  told  him  if  he  wanted  to  go  along  as  a  prisoner  to 
come  on,  and  if  he  did  not,  to  go  on  back  to  the  moun 
tains  and  he  would  send  more  scouts  there  to  find  him. 

He  said:  "Geronimo,  you  are  so  much  of  a  liar  that 
I  do  not  want  to  trust  you  any  more,  and  if  you  go  with 
me  you  will  have  to  go  to  the  guard  house  till  the  author 
ities  at  Washington  decide  what  to  do  with  you." 

He  told  Geronimo  he  would  camp  for  the  night  up  at 
the  scout's  camp  on  the  San  Bernardino  Creek,  and  if  he 
wanted  to  talk  to  come  up  there.  General  Crook  then 
pulled  out,  and  as  Crook  had  brought  Micky  Free  down 
to  me,  I  asked  Micky  if  he  wanted  to  stay  back  with  me 
and  talk  to  Geronimo  and  he  said  he  would,  so  I  told  the 
outfit  to  go  on  to  camp  and  that  I  would  stay  and  talk 
to  Geronimo  a  while. 

Crook  and  his  escort  went  on  and  Micky  and  I  sat 
down  to  have  a  talk  with  Geronimo.  The  chief  had  about 
twenty  men,  well  armed  and  very  well  mounted.  I 


A   VINDICATION.  235 

asked  him  where  he  got  his  horses,  and  he  said  that  the 
Mexicans  were  raising  horses  for  him  in  Sonora,  and  he 
wrent  and  got  them  when  he  wanted  or  needed  them.  I 
told  him  that  General  Crook  was  very  mad  at  him  for 
leaving  the  Reservation,  and  he  said  he  knew  Crook  was 
mad,  but  if  he  could  talk  to  him  he  could  explain  a  good 
many  things.  I  told  him  to  come  on  and  go  to  camp  with 
me  and  I  would  try  and  get  the  General  to  talk  to  him. 
He  asked  me  how  many  scouts  and  soldiers  there  wrere 
in  camp  and  I  said  I  would  not  tell  him.  He  asked  me 
if  I  would  try  to  trap  him  and  I  told  him  he  could  come 
and  make  his  talk  and  if  he  and  the  General  could  not 
agree,  that  he  could  again  go  to  the  mountains.  He  said 
he  would  go  with  me. 

Geronimo  and  I  rode  ahead  of  the  rest  of  his  men,  and 
he  made  a  great  complaint  to  me  about  a  man  like  Chi 
huahua  doing  as  he  was  doing,  and  said  that  Chihuahua 
was  jealous  because  he  could  not  be  war  chief.  I  then 
told  Geronimo  that  Chihuahua  would  not  talk  that  way 
of  him,  and  he  said,  "Yes,  he  would,"  and  added,  that 
Chihuahua  told  him  that  it  was  no  more  good  to  be  on 
the  war  path  and  he  only  said  so  because  some  Mexican 
killed  his  favorite  boy  on  their  last  raid  before  I  struck 
them  on  the  Arras. 

Geronimo  seemed  to  feel  very  bad  about  Chihuahua's 
giving  up,  and  well  he  might,  for  it  showed  to  me  an 
open  break  in  their  camp. 

That  night  Geronimo  wanted  to  talk  to  General 
Crook,  but  Crook  told  him  if  he  wranted  to  go  to  Bowie  to 
the  guard  house  to  come  on,  and  if  he  did  not,  that  his 
talk  was  no  good  and  for  him  to  go  on  back  to  the 
mountains  and  he  would  soon  be  after  him  with  the 


236  LIFE   OF    TOM    HORN: 

scouts.  Geronimo  wanted  to  talk  to  the  scouts,  but  I 
would  not  let  any  of  the  scouts  see  him  except  Micky, 
and  I  knew  he  was  immune  from  the  influence  of  Ge 
ronimo. 

While  I  was  giving  the  scouts  orders  to  keep  away 
from  the  camp  at  Geronimo,  Chihuahua  came  up  and 
said,  in  a  low  tone,  to  me,  to  put  him  and  all  the  people 
writh  him  under  a  close  guard. 

This  I  did,  and,  while  Chihuahua  would  not  tell  me 
anything,  I  could  plainly  see  that  Geronimo  was  only 
with  us  to  try  and  get  some  of  the  men  belonging  to  Chi 
huahua's  band  to  desert  and  go  with  him  on  the  war 
path. 

Geronimo  saw  me  putting  a  guard  over  the  prisoners 
who  had  before  been  entirely  free,  and  he  asked  me  why 
I  was  doing  it.  I  told  him  I  would  take  all  of  them  to 
the  guard  house  at  Bowie,  and  that  no  more  "good  talk" 
was  going  to  go;  that  if  ever  the  Chiricahuas  did  go  back 
to  the  Reservation  they  would  only  go  to  the  guard  house, 
as  they  would  never  be  turned  loose  again. 

Geronimo  said  that  was  very  hard,  and  no  more  of 
them  would  surrender  under  those  conditions.  I  told  him 
I  could  do  no  good  talking  to  him,  and  that  if  he  was 
there  at  sunup  next  morning  that  he  would  be  taken 
prisoner  by  force. 

When  morning  came  there  was  no  Geronimo.  He 
and  his  band  had  gone,  and,  as  long  as  I  was  not  allowed 
to  make  a  prisoner  of  him,  I  was  glad  to  know  he  was 
gone,  for  he  had  a  wonderful  influence  with  all  Indians. 
He  was  such  a  great  talker  that  he  could  make  right 
seem  wrong. 


A   VINDICATION.  237 

We  took  all  the  prisoners  we  had  up  to  Bowie  and 
put  them  in  a  new  guard  house  we  had  made  especially 
for  our  Chiricahua  prisoners.  We  had  a  couple  of  hun 
dred  by  this  time,  and  we  were  also  informed  (anyhow, 
I  was),  that  General  Crook  had  been  relieved,  and  that 
General  Nelson  A.  Miles  was  to  take  command  of  the 
Department. 

Things  in  an  Indian  way  were  at  a  standstill  for  a 
couple  of  months,  and  then  I  was  informed  by  the 
Quartermaster  that  there  would  be  no  more  Chief  of 
Scouts,  and  that  I  was  to  be  sent  to  Camp  Apache  as 
interpreter. 

This  was  quite  a  blow  to  my  pride,  but  one  of  my 
best  friends  was  a  Captain  Thompson,  of  the  Fourth 
Cavalry;  he  was  made  Adjutant  General  under  Miles, 
and  he  told  me  to  go  to  Apache  and  stay  there  till  Gen 
eral  Miles  looked  around  and  saw  the  lay  of  the  land. 
He  told  me  that  Miles  was  going  to  try  the  renegades  a 
lick  with  cavalry.  The  proposition  was  to  enlist  five 
Apaches  in  each  troop  of  cavalry  to  do  the  trailing  and 
scouting  for  the  troops. 

So  things  were  arranged  and  started  under  the  new 
administration. 

Huachuca  was  now  made  headquarters  of  the  Depart 
ment.  All  the  newspapers  said  that  Miles  was  a  brilliant 
officer,  and  was  a  great  Indian  fighter,  and  that  the  career 
of  Geronimo  and  of  Horn  was  about  at  an  end.  A  San 
Francisco  newspaper  had  come  out  with  an  article,  say 
ing  that  Horn  was  as  much  Apache  as  he  was  Mexican ; 
that  I  had  more  influence  with  the  hostiles  than  Ge 
ronimo  himself;  that  I  went  to  his  camp  whenever  I 
wanted  to  without  the  least  fear  of  being  hurt,  and  that 


238  LIFE   OF    TOM    HORN: 

I  was  always  the  interpreter,  and  could  say  anything  I 
wanted  and  no  one  could  dispute  what  I  said,  as  no  other 
white  man  could  talk  their  language,  or  was  trusted 
by  them. 

When  this  article  came  out  I  went  to  the  Quarter 
master,  at  Apache,  where  I  was  stationed,  and  told  him 
that  I  would  quit  the  Government,  as  I  was  evidently 
very  much  in  disgrace.  I  left  at  once  and  went  over  to 
a  ranch  in  the  Aravaipa  Canon,  which  I  had  always 
called  home,  and  where  I  had  always  kept  some  extra 
saddle  horses.  I  had  some  mines  there  that  I  had  wanted 
to  work  for  a  long  time,  and  I  did  not  want  to  work  for 
the  Government  any  more  while  things  were  going  as 
they  were.  Again,  the  newspapers  said  that,  as  I  had 
now  left  the  Government  employ,  General  Miles  would 
not  have  any  traitors  in  his  own  command,  and  would 
soon  put  down  the  renegades  or  kill  them  all! 

I  knew  the  cavalry  would  never  be  able  to  do  any 
thing  but  get  whipped,  but  had  I  told  anyone  so,  I 
should  have  been  laughed  at  for  my  pains;  soldiers 
could  easily  whip  the  renegades  if  they  could  get  at  them, 
but  the  renegades  could  avoid  them  till  they  got  the 
soldiers  into  a  trap,  and  then  give  them  both  barrels. 
Had  I  told  General  Miles  this,  he  would  doubtless  have 
called  me  a  fool. 

Well,  two  companies  of  the  Tenth  Cavalry,  under 
Captain  Leebo,  ran  onto  a  camp  of  renegades  down 
towards  Calabasas,  and  got  whipped,  and  never  saw  one 
Indian.  Two  days  later  the  same  thing  happened  to  a 
troop  of  the  Fourth  Cavalry.  About  a  month  later  a  big 
bunch  of  renegades  came  up  by  Fort  Bowie  and  across 
by  the  Dragoons.  They  killed  a  man  in  the  Dragoons, 


A   VINDICATION.  239 

and  turned  back  on  their  route  and  killed  two  men  and 
a  boy  in  Pinery  Canon,  in  the  Chiricahua  Mountains. 
They  then  went  into  Mexico  and  killed  four  Mexicans, 
just  on  the  line,  at  a  vinataria,  or  muscal  still.  These 
stills  are  scattered  all  over  northern  Mexico,  and,  previ 
ous  to  this,  not  a  man  connected  with  any  of  them  had 
ever  been  killed. 

Four  or  five  squaws  got  lost  from  this  bunch  that 
came  through  last,  or  else  they  deserted  and  came  into 
Fort  Bowie,  and  they  said  that  Ju,  a  Warm  Spring  chief, 
and  a  half-brother  to  Nana,  had  been  killed  by  the 
Mexicans  over  in  Janos,  in  Chihuahua.  The  way  we 
afterwards  got  the  story  was  that  twenty-six  bucks  went 
into  this  town  of  Janos  and  got  drunk;  the  Mexicans  gave 
them  all  the  muscal  they  could  drink,  and  killed  nearly 
all  of  them.  Ju,  in  trying  to  get  away,  was  running  his 
pony  at  the  top  of  its  speed,  and  it  fell  down  a  bank  and 
killed  him.  This  was  why  Geronimo  was  killing  the 
muscal  men. 

Things  were  looking  bad  for  the  Chiricahuas,  and  for 
the  troops,  also;  and  the  newspapers  that  had  expected 
so  much  from  Miles  now  said  that  he  was  a  failure! 

The  Apache  scouts,  with  each  troop  of  cavalry,  would 
not  work  well,  and  they  could  not  understand  the  troop 
commanders,  and  the  troop  commanders  could  not  under 
stand  them. 

In  August,  a  detachment  of  troops  came  to  the  ranch 
where  I  was,  and  brought  me  a  letter  from  the  Quarter 
master  at  Fort  Huachuca.  He  wanted  me  to  come  over 
and  go  to  work.  I  sent  back  word  that  I  was  all  ready 
to  go  to  mining,  and  did  not  care  to  go  to  work  for  the 
Government  again.  Again  came  a  detachment  with  a 


240  LIFE  OF   TOM   HORN: 

second  letter,  this  time  from  General  Miles  himself,  ask 
ing  me  to  come  to  Huachuca  and  see  him,  and  have  a 
talk  with  him  about  the  Indians. 

I  made  arrangements  with  the  boys  who  were  in  with 
me  on  the  mine  to  do  my  share  while  I  was  gone,  then  I 
got  on  my  horse  and  went  to  Huachuca  to  meet  General 
Miles. 

The  General  told  me  there  that  he  wanted  me  to  go 
to  Mexico  and  find  Captain  Lawton  (the  General  Lawton 
killed  in  the  Philippines),  and  act  as  Chief  of  Scouts  with 
him  and  see  what  we  could  do. 

I  went  down  and  struck  Lawton's  camp  at  a  place  in 
Sonora,  called  Sierra  Gordo.  I  crossed  a  trail  of  Indians 
in  the  Heiralitas  Mountains  as  I  went  down,  and,  after  I 
reported  to  Lawton,  I  told  him  what  I  had  seen,  and  he 
asked  me  what  to  do.  He  had  twenty-five  Apache  scouts 
and  two  troops  of  cavalry  and  four  or  five  white  scouts. 
I  told  him  to  leave  all  the  outfit  except  the  scouts  and 
to  go  and  take  up  the  trail  I  had  just  left.  This  we  did, 
and  as  we  were  all  in  light  traveling  order,  we  went  at 
a  good  lively  gait,  and,  as  Dr.  Wood  (General  Leonard 
Wood,  of  Cuban  fame)  said,  "We  will  run  them  off  the 
earth!" 

For  once  the  state  troops  of  Sonora  were  out  and  try 
ing  to  co-operate  with  us;  but  all  that  was  necessary  for 
anyone  to  do  was  to  keep  in  the  mountains  and  give  us 
supplies  and  all  the  information  they  could,  and  we 
would  make  the  last  of  them  run  till  they  got  tired  of 
running.  We  had  already  captured  a  great  many 
women.  (The  renegades  told  it  that  we  killed  seventy- 
five  women  and  children  on  the  Arras,  where  Captain 
Crawford  was  killed  by  the  Mexicans.) 


A    VINDICATION.  241 

Geronimo  was  from  ten  hours  to  four  days  ahead  of 
us  for  five  weeks,  and  his  rear  guard  saw  us  many  times, 
so  they  afterwards  said.  It  was  a  great  race,  and  I  knew 
the-renegades  could  not  stand  it  much  longer.  They  had 
no  time  to  raid  and  get  fresh  horses,  except  as  they  could 
pick  them  up,  and  when  they  would  gain  a  few  days  on 
us  we  would  hear  of  them  by  the  helio,  and  we  could 
drop  the  trail  where  we  were  and  cut  in  ahead. 

As  we  were  coming  up  by  Fronteras,  as  usual,  we 
found  a  couple  of  women  that  had  given  out,  and  we  put 
them  on  pack  mules  and  took  them  on  to  Fronteras. 
There  Captain  Lawton  had  a  helio  dispatch  to  drop  the 
chase,  and  for  me  to  come  to  Huachuca.  The  dispatch 
had  been  there  for  two  days. 

Before  I  got  ready  to  start,  there  came  another  to 
wait  there,  as  Lieutenant  Gatewood  and  a  couple  of  Chir- 
icahua  bucks  were  coming  to  try  to  open  up  communi 
cations  with  Geronimo.  These  were  two  men  who  had 
come  in  with  the  chief  Chihuahua. 

The  Chiricahuas  had  been  leaving  signs  for  a  couple 
of  weeks  that  they  wanted  to  talk,  and  these  signs  had 
all  been  reported  by  me  to  Captain  Lawton,  and  by  Law- 
ton  to  General  Miles. 

We  stopped  close  to  Fronteras  for  four  days  to  let 
Gatewood  and  his  two  men  get  ahead,  so  they  could  com 
municate  with  Geronimo,  but  at  the  end  of  that  time 
Gatewood  came  back  and  reported  to  Captain  Lawton 
that  he  could  not  get  his  two  friendly  Indians  to  ap 
proach  the  Chiricahuas. 

Gatewood  told  Captain  Lawton  that  he  could  not 
open  communications  in  that  way.  Lawton  asked  me 
if  I  could  do  anything,  and  I  told  him  frankly  that  I  was 


242  LIFE   OF   TOM   HORN  : 

the  only  one  who  could  do  anything!  Gatewood  said 
that  General  Miles  did  not  want  me  to  go  into  the  camp 
alone,  as  he  did  not  know  if  he  could  trust  me.  I  had  pre 
viously  told  Lawton  that  I  could  and  would  go  alone,  but 
would  not  go  if  anyone  went  with  me,  as  I  did  not  care 
for  myself,  but  anyone  else  might  get  killed. 

That  was  the  way  the  thing  stood.  I  would  go  alone 
or  not  at  all;  and  Gatewood  was  ordered  by  Miles  not 
to  let  me  go  alone.  There  we  all  stopped  and  waited  till 
Lawton  could  send  a  heliograph  to  General  Miles,  ex 
plaining  the  situation  to  him. 

While  we  were  waiting  for  his  answer  the  soldiers 
brought  in  a  squaw.  Lawton  told  me  to  ask  her  where 
she  came  from,  and  she  said  she  had  come  from  the  ren 
egade  camp  of  Geronimo,  and  that  Geronimo  wanted  to 
see  me  and  talk  to  me.  I  was  very  much  put  out  at  the 
way  I  was  being  treated,  and  would  not  tell  Lawton,  but 
told  him  to  call  George  Wratton,  a  boy  w7ho  was  with 
Gatewood,  and  let  him  do  the  interpreting.  This  he  did. 
The  squaw  said  that  Geronimo  was  in  the  mountains, 
forty  or  fifty  miles  from  there,  and  wanted  me  to  come 
to  him,  and  wanted  all  the  soldiers  to  stop  chasing  him 
till  he  saw  me.  Lawton  still  had  not  heard  from  Miles, 
and  so  he  sent  this  word,  also  to  him. 

Next  day  Miles  sent  word  to  send  Gatewood  and  my 
self  to  see  what  we  could  do.  Then  I  could  not  go,  be 
cause  I  did  not  know  what  I  could  tell  Geronimo,  and 
Lawton  said:  "Tell  him  anything  you  want  to,  but  get 
him  to  come  and  talk  to  Miles."  I  said  that  was  what  I 
wanted  to  do,  but  could  not  unless  Miles  said  he  wanted 
to  talk  to  him.  I  told  Lawton  that  I  could  never  tell 
Geronimo  but  one  lie,  for  he  would  find  it  out,  and  the 


A    VINDICATION.  243 

next  time  I  went  into  his  camp  he  would  tell  me  I  had 
lied  to  him,  and  then  he  would  kill  me.  I  refused  to  go 
unless  General  Miles  promised  me  he  would  meet  old 
Geronimo  at  a  date  Geronimo  and  I  should  fix. 

This  word  was  sent  to  Miles,  and  he  said  for  me  to 
fix  a  date  and  he  would  keep  it.  Ten  minutes  after  I  got 
this  dispatch  I  mounted  my  horse  to  start,  and  Gatewood 
said  he  would  take  his  chances  if  I  would  let  him  go.  I 
told  him  he  would  not  be  taking  any  chances,  and  to 
come  on. 

We  struck  the  camp  up  on  the  Terras,  as  the  squaw 
told  me  we  would,  but  she  would  not  tell  me  where  it 
was  until  I  was  on  my  horse  ready  to  go. 

We  did  not  have  to  go  up  to  the  mountain,  as  Geron 
imo  met  us  down  on  the  Bavispe  River,  and  we  had  a 
long  talk.  I  made  arrangements  to  go  with  him  to  the 
Skeleton  Canon,  in  the  United  States,  and  meet  Miles 
there  in  twelve  days.  That  would  give  Miles  time  and 
to  spare,  and  I  was  afraid  he  would  not  come,  as  he  was 
the  kind  that  wranted  to  make  a  renegade  Indian  think 
he  was  a  big  man,  and  Geronimo  was  just  about  as  vain 
as  Miles  was,  and  thought  that  he,  too,  was  a  big  man. 

The  only  courier  I  had  was  Gatewood,  and  I  sent  him 
back  to  tell  Captain  Lawton  the  arrangements  I  had 
made  with  Geronimo,  and  for  all  the  troops  with  him  at 
Fronteras  to  come  to  the  mouth  of  the  Caballon  Creek, 
and  I  would  meet  him  there  with  the  renegades.  Geron 
imo  had  told  me  to  have  the  American  soldiers  around 
close,  as  he  did  not  want  to  get  mixed  up  with  the  Mex 
icans.  His  idea  and  mine  were  one  on  that;  and,  any 
how,  I  calculated  to  stay  with  the  renegades,  as  they  had 
no  grub,  and  I  did  not  want  them  to  kill  cattle,  of  which 


244  LIFE   OF    TOM    HORN  : 

there  were  plenty  around  there.  I  wanted  to  get  rations 
from  our  command,  which  I  did  when  I  met  them. 

Captain  Lawton  was  very  much  gratified  to  see  how 
well  I  had  done,  and  he  said  for  me  to  stay  with  the 
renegades  and  he  would  do  as  I  said.  He  told  me  he 
had  sent  a  dispatch  to  Miles  to  meet  us  at  the  Skeleton 
Canon,  as  I  had  directed. 

I  went  over  and  told  Geronimo,  and  he  asked  me  if 
this  dispatch  had  come  to  me  direct,  and  I  told  him  that 
it  had  come  to  Captain  Lawton. 

"You  go,"  said  he  to  me,  "and  send  a  dispatch  your 
self,  and  get  an  answer  from  him  direct,  saying  he  will 
meet  me." 

I  went  back  to  Lawton's  camp  and  told  him  I  must 
have  a  dispatch  from  Miles  himself,  saying  he  would 
meet  Geronimo  and  me.  Captain  Lawton  said  he  did  not 
think  Miles  would  send  me  a  dispatch  of  that  kind.  Any 
how,  I  sent  Miles  the  dispatch,  and  told  him  I  wanted 
word  from  him  direct,  to  say  if  he  would  meet  Geronimo 
at  Skeleton.  The  dispatch  I  received  in  reply  was :  "See 
Captain  Lawton.  He  is  in  command  in  the  field.  I  can't 
do  any  business  with  a  civilian." 

I  told  Lawton,  after  showing  him  the  dispatch,  that 
the  stuff  was  all  off,  and  that  Geronimo  would  be  on  top 
of  the  Terras  Mountains  by  morning.  Captain  Lawton 
did  not  know  what  to  do.  It  was  night  by  this  time,  and 
we  could  not  send  any  more  messages.  I  was  thinking 
Miles  was  a  monkey,  as  I  rode  back  to  Geronimo's  camp. 

It  was  dark  when  I  reached  there,  as  he  was  camped 
about  four  miles  from  our  troops'  camp.  I  told  Geronimo 
how  I  had  come  out,  and  I  translated  the  dispatch  to 
him,  and  he,  without  answering,  called  to  his  people  to 


GERONIMO 


A    VINDICATION.  245 

get  ready  to  pull  out,  and  in  less  than  five  minutes  all  be 
gan  to  say:    "We  are  ready." 

Geronimo  then  said  he  could  not  do  business  with 
General  Miles  through  an  officer,  and  said  time  might 
change  the  big  soldier,  and  rode  off  in  the  darkness,  fol 
lowed  by  his  people.  (There  were  only  136  of  them  left 
at  this  time.) 

I  rode  back  to  Lawton's  camp  and  told  him  that  I 
was  going  home,  and  if  General  Miles  ever  needed  me 
again,  if  ever  he  could  condescend  to  do  business  with 
an  Indian  through  me  when  I  had  all  the  responsibility 
to  shoulder,  that  I  should  be  at  his  service.  I  told  him 
Geronimo  was  gone,  and  before  Lawton  could  understand 
the  situation  I  rode  away  and  went  up  to  John  Slaugh 
ter's  ranch. 

It  was  daylight  when  I  reached  the  ranch.  I  turned 
out  my  horse,  and,  as  breakfast  was  soon  ready,  I  ate, 
then  lay  down  on  Slaughter's  bed  and  went  to  sleep. 

There  was  a  troop  of  cavalry  camped  at  Slaughter's, 
and  about  noon  a  Lieutenant  came  up  and  asked  Slaugh 
ter  if  I  ever  stopped  there  as  I  came  through  the  country. 
Slaughter  said:  "He  never  passes  here  without  stop 
ping." 

"Well,  then,"  the  Lieutenant  said,  "he  may  come  by 
here  to-day."  He  had  heard  by  helio  that  I  was  coming 
north.  ) 

Slaughter  said,  "He  is  here  now,  asleep.  He  got  here 
at  daylight." 

The  Lieutenant  said,  "Wake  him  up,  for  God's  sake!  I 
have  a  dispatch  for  him  from  General  Miles." 

John  came  in,  gave  me  a  kick,  and  told  me  that  I  was 
wanted.  I  went  out  and  the  officer  handed  me  the  dis- 


246  LIFE   OF    TOM    HORN  I 

patch.  It  read:  "Make  any  arrangements  you  want  to 
for  me  to  meet  Geronimo.  I  will  go  where  and  when  you 
say  to  meet  him." 

That  was  a  stunner!  Here  Geronimo  had  been  riding 
south  all  night,  and  I  had  ridden  forty  miles  north,  and 
both  had  started  from  the  same  point!  There  were 
easily  seventy-five  or  eighty  miles  between  us  now. 

I  went  to  the  helio  station  and  sent  a  dispatch,  saying 
Geronimo  had  gone  back  south,  but  to  order  the  troops 
to  lie  still  and  I  would  try  to  see  if  I  could  find  him. 

In  just  one  week  I  had  Geronimo  back  in  the  same 
neighborhood  and  had  communicated  with  Lawton. 
Everybody  was  afraid  I  could  not  get  the  renegade  chief 
back  the  second  time.  I  sent  word  to  Miles  to  meet  me 
in  four  days  at  Skeleton  Canon,  and  he  was  there  on  time. 

Miles  came  up  into  the  canon,  and  I  took  Geronimo 
and  Natchez  and  came  down  to  meet  him.  Miles  had 
three  interpreters  with  him,  and,  after  I  brought  him  and 
Geronimo  together,  he  said  to  one  of  his  interpreters  to 
tell  Geronimo  that  he  wanted  to  have  a  good,  long  talk 
with  him,  and  that  they  had  better  get  where  they  could 
sit  down.  Geronimo  did  not  answer  Miles,  but  said  to 
the  interpreter,  "You  are  a  Tonto,  and  I  will  have  noth 
ing  to  do  with  you.  I  will  only  talk  through  the  chief. 
I  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  any  one  but  him." 

General  Miles  said:  "Oh,  all  right,  but  the  chief  is 
not  a  sworn  Government  interpreter,  and  these  other 
men  are." 

"I  don't  ask  for  him  to  be  sworn,"  retorted  Geronimo, 
"when  he  comes  to  my  camp  do  you  suppose  I  ask  him 
if  he  is  telling  me  the  truth?  No!  That  I  never  do.  I 
am  a  liar,"  went  on  Geronimo,  "when  it  suits  my  way 


A   VINDICATION.  247 

of  doing,  but  this  boy  and  I  speak  only  the  truth  to 
each  other.  You  do  not  like  him;  I  do  not  know  why, 
and  still  when  you  do  not  like  or  trust  him  to  do  your 
business  you  must  have  a  cause  for  it.  What  is  the 
reason?  Tell  me  what  he  has  done,  for  there  was  a  time 
when  he  was  trusted,  and  he  is  a  son  of  the  old  chief, 
Sibi;  and  Sibi,  the  man  of  iron,  and  my  people  have 
been  fighting  each  other  for  thirty  years  and  Sibi  never 
lies.  Nothing  a  man  does  is  wrong  if  he  tells  the  truth. 
Tell  me  what  this  boy  has  done  that  was  wrong?  You 
sent  him  word  that  you  would  have  nothing  to  do  with 
him,  and  I  sent  you  word  I  would  not  have  anything  to 
do  with  anyone  else." 

Miles  said:  "Do  not  let  us  talk  about  that;  let  us 
talk  of  what  you  want  to  do." 

Geronimo  said,  "I  want  to  surrender  with  all  my  peo 
ple.  I  will  do  as  you  say,  and  go  where  you  tell  me 
to  go  or  send  me.  I  am  tired  of  the  war  path,  and  my 
people  are  all  worn  out." 

General  Miles  then  told  him  to  come  on  in  to  Bowie 
and  he  would  see  what  would  be  done  with  them.  So, 
after  all,  the  great  talk  was  very  small. 

When  we  got  to  Fort  Bowie,  all  the  soldiers  formed 
on  the  parade  ground,  and  Geronimo  and  his  outfit  rode 
in  and  laid  down  their  arms. 

Then  General  Miles  did  do  a  fine  act  without  any 
authority  or  orders  from  the  War  Department.  He 
wired  down  to  Bowie  station,  on  the  Southern  Pacific 
railroad,  got  a  special  train,  took  all  the  Chiricahuas,  the 
ones  we  had  brought  in  and  the  ones  in  the  guard  house, 
marched  them  down,  loaded  them  on  the  train,  locked 
them  in  the  cars  and  put  guards  all  over  the  train.  Then 


248  LIFE  OF   TOM   HORN: 

they  pulled  out  and  the  dreaded  Chiricahuas,  the  terror 
of  Mexico  and  all  the  Southwest,  were  gone,  never  more 
to  return,  and  Arizona  was  left  in  a  more  peaceful  condi 
tion  than  it  had  ever  enjoyed  before. 

The  old  Mexican  Captain,  Jose  Maria,  did  not  come  in, 
and  I  learned  that  he  was  still  in  Mexico  with  five  other 
Indians.  A  Chiricahua  named  Wasse  jumped  off  the 
train  down  in  Texas  while  the  train  was  running  at  full 
speed.  He  turned  up  in  the  Sierra  Madres  later,  having 
made  all  the  distance  on  foot,  through  the  settlements  of 
Texas,  and  the  Texas  marshals  were  after  him  all  the 
time.  He  spoke  Mexican  like  a  native,  and  could  pass 
for  one  anywhere  in  Texas.  He  was  an  outlaw  for  many 
years,  living  around  in  the  mountains,  and  coming  in  to 
the  Reservation  once  in  a  while  to  get  a  fresh  squaw. 
Any  kind  was  good  enough  for  him.  He  would  take  a 
Yuma  squaw  as  soon  as  any  other  kind,  and  he  could  not 
speak  a  word  of  the  Yuma  language. 

I  took  all  my  scouts  to  the  Reservation,  discharged 
them  and  was  then  discharged  myself.  I  went  back  to 
the  Aravaipo  to  go  to  work  on  the  mine.  I  stayed  and 
worked  at  the  mine  all  winter. 


A   VINDICATION.  249 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


The  Rustlers'  War — Horn  Called  as  Mediator — Becomes 
Deputy  Sheriff  of  Yavapai  County — Outbreak  of 
"Apache  Kid"— Toga's  Heart  Split  in  Two— Sieber, 
One  Against  Eleven — "Apache  Kid's"  Surrender — 
He  Kills  Guards  and  Escapes — Roping  Contests 
Among  Cow  Boys — Horn  Breaks  Record — Horn  Goes 
to  Denver  to  Work  for  Pinkerton  National  Detective 
Agency — A  Train  Robbery  Case — Horn  Captures 
"Peg  Leg"  Watson — Horn  and  Stewart  Run  Down 
Joe  McCoy — Horn  Quits  the  Pinkertons  and  Goes  to 
Work  for  the  Swan  Land  &  Cattle  Company  of  Wy 
oming — Life  Story  Continued  in  Yellow  Journals. 


Early  in  April  of  1887,  some  of  the  boys  came  dowrn 
from  the  Pleasant  Valley,  where  there  wras  a  big  rustler 
war  going  on  and  the  rustlers  wrere  getting  the  best  of 
the  game.  I  was  tired  of  the  mine  and  willing  to  go,  and 
so  away  we  went.  Things  were  in  a  pretty  bad  condition. 
It  was  war  to  the  knife  between  cow  boys  and  rustlers, 
and  there  was  a  battle  every  time  the  two  outfits  ran 
together.  A  great  many  men  were  killed  in  the  war. 
Old  man  Blevins  and  his  three  sons,  three  of  the  Gra 
hams,  a  Bill  Jacobs,  Jim  Payne,  Al  Rose,  John  Tewkes- 
bury,  Stolt,  Scott,  and  a  man  named  "Big  Jeff"  were 
hung  on  the  Apache  and  Gila  County  line.  Others  were 
killed,  but  I  do  not  remember  their  names  now.  I  was 


250  LIFE   OF    TOM   HORN: 

the  mediator,  and  was  deputy  sheriff  under  Bucky  O'Neil, 
of  Yavapai  County,  under  Commodore  Owens,  of  Apache 
County,  and  Glenn  Reynolds,  of  Gila  County.  I  was 
still  a  deputy  for  Reynolds  a  year  later  when  he  was 
killed  by  the  Apache  Kid,  in  1888. 

After  this  war  in  the  Pleasant  Valley  I  again  went 
back  to  my  mine  and  went  to  work,  but  it  was  too  slow, 
and  I  could  not  stay  at  it.  I  was  just  getting  ready  to 
go  to  Mexico  and  was  going  down  to  clean  out  the  spring 
at  the  mine  one  evening.  I  turned  my  saddle  horse  loose 
and  let  him  graze  up  the  canon.  After  I  got  the  spring 
cleaned  out  I  went  up  the  canon  to  find  my  horse  and  I 
saw  a  moccasin  track  covering  the  trail  made  by  the  rope 
my  horse  was  dragging.  That  meant  to  go  back,  but  I 
did  not  go  back.  I  cut  up  the  side  of  the  mountain  and 
found  the  trail  where  my  horse  had  gone  out.  It  ran 
into  the  trail  of  several  more  horses  and  they  were  all 
headed  south.  I  went  down  to  the  ranch,  got  another 
horse  and  rode  over  to  the  Agency,  about  thirty  miles,  to 
get  an  Indian  or  two  to  go  with  me  to  see  what  I  could 
learn  about  this  bunch  of  Indians. 

I  got  to  the  Agency  about  2  o'clock  in  the  morning 
and  found  that  there  had  been  an  outbreak  and  mutiny 
among  Sieber's  police.  It  was  like  this:  Sieber  had 
raised  a  young  Indian  he  always  called  "the  Kid,"  and 
now  known  as  the  "Apache  Kid."  This  kid  was  the  son 
of  old  Chief  Toga-de-chuz,  a  San  Carlos  Apache.  At  a 
big  dance  on  the  Gila  at  old  Toga-de-chuz's  camp  every 
body  got  drunk  and  when  morning  came  old  Toga  was 
found  dead  from  a  knife  thrust.  An  old  hunter  belong 
ing  to  another  tribe  of  Indians  and  called  "Rip,"  was  ac 
cused  of  doing  the  job,  but  from  what  Sieber  could  learn, 


A   VINDICATION.  251 

as  he  afterwards  told  me,  everybody  was  too  drunk  to 
know  how  the  thing  did  happen.  The  wound  was  given 
in  a  very  skilful  manner  and  as  it  split  open  old  Toga's 
heart  it  was  supposed  to  be  given  by  one  who  knew 
where  the  heart  lay. 

Toga  and  old  Kip  had  had  a  row  over  a  girl  about 
forty  years  before,  (they  were  both  about  sixty  at  this 
time),  and  Toga  had  gotten  the  best  of  the  row  and  the 
girl  to  boot.  Some  say  that  an  Indian  will  forget  and 
forgive  the  same  as  a  white  man.  I  say  no.  Here  had 
elapsed  forty  years  between  the  row  and  the  time  old 
Toga  was  killed. 

Rip  had  not  turned  his  horse  loose  in  the  evening 
before  the  killing,  so  it  was  supposed  he  had  come  there 
with  the  express  intention  of  killing  old  Toga. 

Any  way  the  Kid  wras  the  oldest  son  of  Toga-de-chuz 
and  he  must  revenge  the  death  of  his  father.  He  must, 
according  to  all  Indian  laws  and  customs,  kill  old  Rip. 
Sieber  knew  this  and  cautioned  the  Kid  about  doing 
anything  to  old  Rip.  The  Kid  never  said  a  word  to 
Sieber  as  to  what  he  would  do.  The  Kid  was  First  Ser 
geant  of  the  agency  scouts.  The  Interior  Department 
had  given  the  agency  over  to  the  military  and  there  were 
no  more  police,  but  scouts  instead. 

Shortly  after  this  killing,  Sieber  and  Captain  Pierce, 
the  agent,  went  up  to  Camp  Apache  to  see  about  the  dis 
tribution  of  some  annuities  to  the  Indians  there,  and  the 
Kid,  as  First  Sergeant  of  the  scouts,  was  left  in  charge 
of  the  peace  of  the  agency. 

No  sooner  did  Sieber  and  Captain  Pierce  get  started 
than  the  Kid  took  five  of  his  men  and  went  over  on  the 
Aravaipo,  where  old  Rip  lived,  and  shot  him.  That 


252  LIFE   OF    TOM    HORN: 

evened  up  their  account  and  the  Kid  went  back  to  where 
his  band  was  living  up  above  the  agency.  Sieber  heard 
of  this  and  he  and  Pierce  immediately  started  to  San 
Carlos. 

When  they  got  there  they  found  no  one  in  command 
of  the  scouts.  Sieber  sent  word  up  to  the  camp  where 
the  Kid's  people  lived  to  tell  the  Kid  to  come  down.  This 
he  did  escorted  by  the  whole  band  of  bucks. 

Sieber,  when  they  drew  up  in  front  of  his  tent,  went 
out  and  spoke  to  the  Kid  and  told  him  to  get  off  his 
horse,  and  this  the  Kid  did.  Sieber  then  told  him  to  take 
the  arms  of  the  other  four  or  five  men  who  had  Govern 
ment  rifles.  This  also  the  Kid  did.  He  took  their  guns 
and  belts  and  then  Sieber  told  him  to  take  off  his  own 
belt  and  put  down  his  gun  and  take  the  other  deserters 
and  go  to  the  guard  house. 

Some  of  the  bucks  with  the  Kid,  (those  who  were  not 
soldiers),  said  to  the  Kid  to  fight,  and  in  a  second  they 
were  at  it — eleven  bucks  against  Sieber  alone.  It  did 
not  make  any  particular  difference  to  Sieber  about  being 
outnumbered.  His  rifle  was  in  his  tent.  He  jumped  back 
and  got  it,  and  at  the  first  shot  he  killed  one  Indian.  All 
the  other  Indians  fired  at  him  as  he  came  to  the  door  of 
his  tent,  but  only  one  bullet  struck  him;  that  hit  him  on 
the  shin  and  shattered  his  leg  all  to  pieces.  He  fell  and 
the  Indian  ran  away. 

This  was  what  Sieber  told  me  when  I  got  to  the 
Agency.  And  then  I  knew  it  was  the  Kid  who  had  my 
horse  and  outfit.  Soldiers  were  already  on  his  trail. 

From  where  he  had  stolen  my  horse,  he  and  his  band 
crossed  over  the  mountain  to  the  Table  Mountain  dis 
trict,  and  there  stole  a  lot  of  Bill  Atchley- s  saddle  horses. 


A   VINDICATION.  253 

A  few  miles  further  on  they  killed  Bill  Dihl,  then  headed 
on  up  through  the  San  Pedro  country,  turned  down  the 
Sonoita  River,  and  there  they  killed  Mike  Grace;  then 
they  were  turned  back  north  again  by  some  of  the  cav 
alry  that  was  after  them. 

They  struck  back  north,  and  Lieutenant  Johnson  got 
after  them  about  Pontaw,  overtook  them  in  the  Rincon 
Mountains,  and  had  a  fight,  killing  a  couple  of  them,  and 
put  all  the  rest  of  them  afoot.  My  horse  was  captured 
unwounded,  and  as  the  soldiers  knew  him,  he  was  taken 
to  the  San  Pedro  and  left  there;  they  sent  word  to  me, 
and  eventually  I  got  him,  though  he  was  pretty  badly 
used  up. 

That  was  the  way  the  Kid  came  to  break  out.  He 
went  back  to  the  Reservation,  and  later  on  he  surren 
dered.  He  was  tried  for  desertion,  and  given  a  long 
time  by  the  Federal  Courts,  but  was  pardoned  by  Presi 
dent  Cleveland,  after  having  served  a  short  term. 

During  the  time  the  Kid  and  his  associates  were  hid 
ing  around  on  the  Reservation,  previous  to  his  first  ar 
rest,  he  and  his  men  had  killed  a  freighter,  or  he  may 
have  been  only  a  whiskey  peddler.  Anyway,  he  was 
killed  twelve  miles  above  San  Carlos,  on  the  San  Carlos 
River,  by  the  Kid's  outfit,  and  when  the  Kid  returned 
to  the  Agency  after  he  had  done  his  short  term,  and  had 
been  pardoned  by  the  President,  he  was  re-arrested  by 
the  civil  authorities  of  Gila  County,  Arizona,  to  be  tried 
for  the  killing  of  this  man  at  the  Twelve  Mile  Pole. 

This  was  in  the  fall  of  1888.  I  was  deputy  sheriff  of 
Gila  County  at  that  time,  and  as  it  was  a  new  county, 
Reynolds  was  the  first  sheriff.  I  was  to  be  the  inter 
preter  at  the  Kid's  trial,  but  on  July  4th,  of  1888,  I  had 


251  LIFE   OF    TOM    HOEN  : 

won  the  prize  at  Globe  for  tying  down  a  steer,  and  there 
was  a  county  rivalry  among  the  cow  boys  all  over  the 
Territory  as  to  who  was  the  quickest  man  at  that  busi 
ness.  One  Charley  Meadows  (whose  father  and  brother 
were  before  mentioned  as  being  killed  by  the  Cibicus  on 
their  raid),  was  making  a  big  talk  that  he  could  beat 
me  tying  at  the  Territorial  Fair,  at  Phoenix.  Our  boys 
concluded  1  must  go  to  the  fair  and  make  a  trial  for  the 
Territorial  prize,  and  take  it  out  of  Meadows.  I  had 
known  Meadows  for  years,  and  I  thought  I  could  beat 
him,  and  so  did  my  friends. 

The  fair  came  off  at  the  same  time  as  did  court  in 
our  new  county,  and  since  I  could  not  very  well  be  at 
both  places,  and,  as  they  said,  could  not  miss  the  fair, 
I  was  not  at  the  trial. 

While  I  was  at  Phoenix  the  trial  came  off  and  several 
of  the  Indians  told  him  about  the  killing.  (There  were 
six  on  trial),  and  they  were  all  sentenced  to  the  peni 
tentiary  at  Yuma,  Arizona,  for  life.  Reynolds  and 
"Hunky  Dory"  Holmes  started  to  take  them  to  Yuma. 
There  were  the  six  Indians  and  a  Mexican  sent  up  for 
one  year,  for  horse  stealing.  The  Indians  had  their 
hands  coupled  together,  so  that  there  were  three  in  each 
of  the  two  bunches. 

Where  the  stage  road  from  Globe  to  Casa  Grande  (the 
railroad  station  on  the  Southern  Pacific  railroad)  crosses 
the  Gila  River  there  is  a  very  steep  sand  wash,  up  which 
the  stage  road  winds.  Going  up  this  Reynolds  took  his 
prisoners  out  and  they  were  all  walking  behind  the  stage. 
The  Mexican  was  handcuffed  and  inside  the  stage. 
Holmes  got  ahead  of  Reynolds  some  little  distance. 
Holmes  had  three  Indians  and  Reynolds  had  three. 


A   VINDICATION.  255 

Just  as  Holmes  turned  a  short  bend  in  the  road  and 
got  behind  a  point  of  rocks  and  out  of  sight  of  Reynolds, 
at  a  given  signal,  each  bunch  of  prisoners  turned  on  their 
guard  and  grappled  with  them.  Holmes  was  soon  down 
and  they  killed  him.  The  three  that  had  tackled  Rey 
nolds  were  not  doing  so  wrell,  but  the  ones  that  had  killed 
Holmes  got  his  rifle  and  pistol  and  went  to  the  aid  of 
the  ones  grappling  Reynolds.  These  three  were  holding 
his  arms  so  he  could  not  get  his  gun.  The  ones  that  came 
up  killed  him,  took  his  keys,  unlocked  the  cuffs  and  they 
were  free. 

Gene  Livingston  was  driving  the  stage,  and  he  looked 
around  the  side  of  the  stage  to  see  what  the  shooting 
was  about.  One  of  the  desperadoes  took  a  shot  at  him, 
striking  him  over  the  eye,  and  down  he  came.  The  Kid 
and  his  men  then  took  the  stage  horses  and  tried  to  ride 
them,  but  there  was  only  one  of  the  four  that  they  could 
ride. 

The  Kid  remained  an  outlaw  after  that,  till  he  died  a 
couple  of  years  ago  of  consumption.  The  Mexican,  after 
the  Kid  and  his  men  left  the  stage  (they  had  taken  off 
his  handcuffs),  struck  out  for  Florence  and  notified  the 
authorities.  The  driver  was  only  stunned  by  the  shot 
over  the  eye  and  is  to-day  a  resident  and  business  man 
of  Globe. 

Had  I  not  been  urged  to  go  to  the  fair  at  Phoenix,  this 
would  never  have  happened,  as  the  Kid  and  his  comrades 
just  walked  along  and  put  up  the  job  in  their  owrn  lan 
guage,  which  no  one  there  could  understand  but  them 
selves.  Had  I  not  gone  to  the  fair  I  would  have  been 
with  Reynolds,  and  could  have  understood  what  they 


256  LIFE   OF    TOM    HORN  I 

said  and  it  would  never  have  happened.    I  won  the  prize 
roping  at  the  fair,  but  it  was  at  a  very  heavy  cost. 

[At  this  point  in  Horn's  story,  I  wish  to  insert  a  clipping 
which  I  have  been  fortunate  enough  to  secure.  It  is  from  the 

Philadelphia  Times,  of 27th,  1895,  and  is  timely  just 

here.] 

"In  Arizona  and  New  Mexico,  roping  contests  used 
to  be  held  as  a  kind  of  annual  tournament,  in  Au 
gust,  to  the  fair,  or  else  as  a  special  entertainment, 
often  comprising,  among  other  features,  horse  racing,  a 
bull  fight,  baile  and  fiesta.  Roping  contests  are  generally 
held  in  a  large  field  or  enclosure — such  as  the  interior  of 
a  race  course.  Inside  this  compound  is  built  a  small  cor 
ral,  in  which  are  confined  wild  beef  cattle,  usually  three- 
year-old  steers,  just  rounded  up  off  the  range. 

"The  contest  is  a  time  race,  to  see  who  can  overtake, 
lasso,  throw  and  tie  hard  and  fast  the  feet  of  a  steer  in 
the  shortest  period.  The  record  was  made  at  Phoenix, 
Arizona,  in  1891.  The  contestants  were,  Charlie  Mead 
ows,  Bill  McCann,  George  lago,  Ramon  Barca  and  Tom 
Horn,  all  well-known  vaqueros  of  the  Mexican-Arizona 
border.  Tom  Horn  won  the  contest.  Time,  49J  seconds, 
which  I  do  not  think  has  since  been  lowered. 

"Two  parallel  lines,  about  as  far  apart  as  the  ends  of 
a  polo  court,  were  marked  by  banderoles  or  guidons.  A 
steer  was  let  out  of  the  corral  and  driven  at  a  run  in  a 
direction  at  right  angles  to  the  lines  marked.  As  the 
steer  crossed  the  second  line,  a  banderole  was  dropped, 
which  was  the  signal  for  a  vaquero  to  start  from  the  first 
line,  thus  giving  the  beef  a  running  start  of  250  yards. 
The  horses  used  were  all  large,  fleet  animals,  wonderfully 
well  trained,  and  swooped  for  their  prey  at  full  speed 


A   VINDICATION.  257 

and  by  the  shortest  route,  turning  without  a  touch  of  the 
rein  to  follow  the  steer,  often  anticipating  his  turns  by 
a  shorter  cut.  When  the  vaquero  got  within  fifty  yards 
of  his  beef  the  loop  of  his  riata  was  swinging  in  a  sharp, 
crisp  circle  about  his  right  arm,  raised  high  to  his  right 
and  rear,  and  when  twenty  yards  closer,  it  shot  forward, 
hovered  for  an  instant,  and  then  descended  above  the 
horns  of  its  victim,  which  a  moment  later  would  land  a 
somersault.  Before  the  beef  could  recover  his  surprise 
or  wind  he  would  have  a  half  hitch  about  his  fore  legs, 
a  second  about  his  hind  legs,  and  a  third  found  all  four 
a  snug  little  bunch,  hard  and  fast. 

"The  rope,  of  course,  is  not  taken  from  the  head;  it 
is  all  one  rope,  the  slack  being  successively  used.  Some 
times  the  vaqueros  used  foot-roping  instead  of  head.  It 
requires  more  skill  and  is  practiced  more  by  the  Mexi 
cans,  who  think  it  a  good  method  with  large-horned  cat 
tle  while  in  herd,  where  heads  are  so  little  separated  that 
a  lasso  would  fall  on  horns  not  wanted.  In  foot-roping 
the  noose  is  thrown  lower  and  a  bit  in  front  of  the  beef, 
so  that  at  his  next  step  he  will  put  his  foot  into  the  noose 
before  it  strikes  the  ground.  If  the  noose  falls  too 
quickly  for  this,  it  is  jerked  sharply  upward  just  as  the 
foot  is  raised  above  it. 

"I  have  seen  men  so  skilful  at  this  that  they  would 
bet  even  money  on  roping  an  animal  on  a  single  throw, 
naming  the  foot  that  they  wrould  secure,  as  right  hind, 
left  fore,  and  so  forth.  As  regards  the  lash  end  of  the 
riata,  two  methods  in  this  contest  were  also  used.  In 
the  'Texas  style,'  the  lash  of  the  riata  is  made  hard  and 
fast  to  the  horn  of  the  saddle.  The  instant  the  rope 
'holds,'  a  pony  who  understands  his  work  plants  his  fore 


258  LIFE   OF   TOM   HORN  I 

feet  forward  and  checks  suddenly,  giving  the  steer  a 
header.  His  rider  dismounts  quickly,  runs  to  the  beef, 
which  the  pony  keeps  down  by  holding  the  rope  taut. 

"As  soon  as  the  vaquero  faces  the  pony  and  grasps 
the  rope  near  the  beef,  the  pony  moves  forward,  and  with 
the  slack  of  the  rope  the  beef  is  secured.  While  the  beef 
is  plunging  or  wheeling  on  the  rope  the  pony  is  careful 
to  keep  his  head  toward  the  beef,  or,  as  the  sailor  would 
say,  he  goes  'bow  on/ 

"The  Texas  method  is  best  adapted  to  loose  ground, 
where  it  is  much  easier  on  the  vaquero,  but  it  is  utterly 
unsuited  for  mountain  work  or  steep  hillsides,  as  the 
pony  would  lose  his  footing  and  land  up  in  the  bottom  of 
a  canon. 

"For  such  country,  the  California  style  is  used.  Here 
the  lash  is  not  made  fast;  a  few  f rapping  turns  are  made 
about  the  horn,  and  the  rider  uses  his  weight  and  a 
checking  of  the  pony  to  throw  the  beef.  When  he  dis 
mounts,  he  carries  the  lash  end  forward,  keeping  it  taut, 
toward  the  beef,  taking  up  the  slack  and  coils  it  as  he 
goes,  and  with  it  secures  the  beef.  The  pony  is  free  after 
the  steer  is  thrown.  It  is  the  more  rapid  method.  Tom 
Horn  used  it  in  the  contest  won,  when  he  made  his  rec 
ord.  With  it  the  vaquero  has  free  use  of  his  riata  for 
securing  the  beef.  But  it  is  a  hard  method,  and  plains 
men  prefer  letting  Mr.  Bronco  take  the  brunt  of  it. 

"Tom  Horn  is  well  known  all  along  the  border.  He 
served  as  government  guide,  packer,  scout  and  as  chief 
of  Indian  scouts,  which  latter  position  he  held  with  Cap 
tain  Crawford  at  the  time  the  Mexicans  killed  him  in  the 
Sierra  Madre  Mountains.  He  is  the  hero  referred  to  'in 
the  story  of  'The  Killing  of  the  Captain,'  by  John  Heard, 


A   VINDICATION.  259 

Sr.,  published    some    months    ago  in  the  Cosmopolitan 
Magazine." 


(Horn's  narrative  is  now  resumed.) 

In  the  winter  I  again  went  home  and  in  the  following 
spring  I  went  to  work  on  my  mine.  Worked  along  pretty 
steady  on  it  for  a  year,  and  in  1890  we  sold  it  to  a  party 
of  New  Yorkers.  We  got  f 8,000  for  it. 

We  were  negotiating  for  this  sale,  and  at  the  same 
time  the  Pinkerton  National  Detective  Agency  at  Den 
ver,  Colorado,  was  writing  to  me  to  get  me  to  come  to 
Denver  and  go  to  work  for  them.  I  thought  it  would  be 
a  good  thing  to  do,  and  as  soon  as  all  the  arrangements 
for  the  sale  of  the  mine  were  made  I  came  to  Denver  and 
was  initiated  into  the  mysteries  of  the  Pinkerton  insti 
tution. 

My  work  for  them  was  not  the  kind  that  exactly 
suited  my  disposition;  too  tame  for  me.  There  were  a 
good  many  instructions  and  a  good  deal  of  talk  given  to 
the  operative  regarding  the  things  to  do  and  the  things 
that  had  been  done. 

James  McParland,  the  superintendent,  asked  me  what 
t  would  do  if  I  were  put  on  a  train  robbery  case.  I  told 
him  if  I  had  a  good  man  with  me  I  could  catch  up  to 
them. 

Well,  on  the  last  night  of  August,  that  year,  at  about 
midnight,  a  train  was  robbed  on  the  Denver  &  Rio 
Grande  Railway,  between  Cotopaxi  and  Texas  Creek.  I 
was  sent  out  there,  and  was  told  that  C.  W.  Shores  would 
be  along  in  a  day  or  so.  He  came  on  time  and  asked  me 
how  I  was  getting  on.  I  told  him  I  had  struck  the  trail, 


260  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN  I 

but  there  were  so  many  men  scouring  the  country  that 
I,  myself,  was  being  held  up  all  the  time;  that  I  had  been 
arrested  twice  in  two  days  and  taken  in  to  Salida  to  be 
identified! 

Eventually  all  the  sheriffs'  posses  quit  and  then  Mr. 
W.  A.  Pinkerton  and  Mr.  McParland  told  Shores  and  me 
to  go  at  'em.  We  took  up  the  trail  where  I  had  left  it 
several  days  before  and  we  never  left  it  till  we  got  the 
robbers. 

They  had  crossed  the  Sangre  de  Cristo  range,  come 
down  by  the  Villa  Grove  iron  mines,  and  crossed  back 
to  the  east  side  of  the  Sangre  de  Cristos  at  Mosca  pass, 
then  on  down  through  the  Huerfano  Canon,  out  by  Cu- 
charas,  thence  down  east  of  Trinidad.  They  had  dropped 
into  Clayton,  N.  M.,  and  got  into  a  shooting  scrape  there 
in  a  gin  mill.  They  then  turned  east  again  toward  the 
"Neutral  Strip"  and  close  to  Beaver  City,  then  across 
into  the  "Pan  Handle"  by  a  place  in  Texas  called  Ochil- 
tree,  the  county  seat  of  Ochiltree  county.  They  then 
headed  toward  the  Indian  Territory,  and  crossed  into  it 
below  Canadian  City.  They  then  swung  in  on  the  head 
of  the  Washita  River  in  the  Territory,  and  kept  down 
this  river  for  a  long  distance. 

We  finally  saw  that  we  were  getting  close  to  them, 
as  we  got  in  the  neighborhood  of  Paul's  Valley.  At 
Washita  station  we  located  one  of  them  in  the  house  of 
a  man  by  the  name  of  Wolfe.  The  robber's  name  was 
Burt  Curtis.  Shores  took  this  one  and  came  on  back  to 
Denver,  leaving  me  to  get  the  other  one  if  ever  he  came 
back  to  Wolfe's. 

After  several  days  of  waiting  on  my  part,  he  did 
come  back,  and  as  he  came  riding  up  to  the  house  I 


A   VINDICATION.  261 

stepped  out  and  told  him  some  one  had  come!  He  was 
"Peg  Leg"  Watson,  and  considered  by  every  one  in  Colo 
rado  as  a  very  desperate  character.  I  had  no  trouble 
with  him. 

We  had  an  idea  that  Joe  McCoy,  also,  was  in  the 
robbery,  but  "Peg"  said  he  was  not,  and  gave  me  in 
formation  enough  so  that  I  located  him.  He  was  wanted 
very  badly  by  the  sheriff  of  Fremont  county,  Colorado, 
for  a  murder  scrape.  He  and  his  father  had  been  tried 
previous  to  this  for  murder,  had  been  found  guilty  and 
were  remanded  to  jail  to  wait  sentence,  but  before  Joe 
was  sentenced  he  had  escaped.  The  old  man  McCoy  got  a 
new  trial,  and  at  the  new  trial  was  sentenced  to  eighteen 
years  in  the  Canon  City,  Colorado,  penitentiary. 

When  I  captured  my  man,  got  to  a  telegraph  station 
and  wired  Mr.  McParland  that  I  had  the  notorious  "Peg," 
the  superintendent  wired  back:  "Good!  Old  man  Mc 
Coy  got  eighteen  years  to-day!"  This  train  had  been 
robbed  in  order  to  get  money  to  carry  McCoy's  case  up 
to  the  Supreme  Court,  or  rather  to  pay  the  attorneys 
(Macons  &  Son),  who  had  carried  the  case  up. 

Later  on  I  told  Mr.  McParland  that  I  could  locate  Joe 
McCoy  and  he  communicated  with  Stewart,  the  sheriff, 
who  came  to  Denver  and  made  arrangements  for  me  to 
go  with  him  and  try  to  get  McCoy. 

We  left  Denver  on  Christmas  eve  and  went  direct  to 
Rifle,  from  there  to  Meeker  and  on  down  White  River. 
When  we  got  to  where  McCoy  had  been  we  learned  that 
he  had  gone  to  Ashley,  in  Utah,  for  the  Christmas  festivi 
ties.  We  pushed  on  over  there,  reaching  the  town  late 
at  night,  and  could  not  locate  our  man.  Next  morning 
I  learned  where  he  got  his  meals  and  as  he  went  in  to 


262  LIFE  OF   TOM   HORN: 

get  his  breakfast  I  followed  him  in  and  arrested  him.  He 
had  a  big  Colt's  pistol,  but  did  not  shoot  me.  We  took 
him  out  by  Fort  Duchesne,  Utah,  and  caught  the  D.  & 
R.  G.  train  at  Price  station. 

The  judge  under  whom  he  had  been  tried  had  left  the 
bench  when  McCoy  finally  was  landed  back  in  jail,  and  it 
would  have  required  a  new  trial  before  he  could  be  sen 
tenced  by  another  judge;  he  consented  to  plead  guilty 
to  involuntary  manslaughter,  and  took  six  years  in  the 
Canon  City  pen.  He  was  pardoned  out  in  three  years, 
I  believe. 

Peg  Leg  Watson  and  Burt  Curtis  were  tried  in  the 
United  States  court  for  robbing  the  United  States  mails 
on  the  highway,  and  were  sentenced  for  life  in  the  Detroit 
federal  prison.  In  robbing  the  train  they  had  first  made 
the  fireman  break  into  the  mail  compartment  of  the 
compartment  car.  They  then  saw  their  mistake,  and  did 
not  even  take  the  amount  of  a  one-cent  postage  stamp, 
but  went  and  made  the  fireman  break  into  the  rear  com 
partment,  where  they  found  the  express  matter  and  took 
it.  But  the  authorities  proved  that  it  was  mail  robbery 
and  their  sentence  was  life. 

While  Pinkerton's  is  one  of  the  greatest  institutions 
of  the  kind  in  existence,  I  never  did  like  the  work,  so  I 
left  them  in  1894. 

I  then  came  to  Wyoming  and  went  to  work  for  the 
Swan  Land  and  Cattle  Company,  since  which  time  every 
body  else  has  been  more  familiar  with  my  life  and  busi 
ness  than  I  have  been  myself. 


A  VINDICATION.  263 

And  I  think  that  since  my  coming  here  the  yellow 
journal  reporters  are  better  equipped  to  write  my  his 
tory  than  am  I,  myself! 

Respectfully, 

TOM  HORN. 


SUPPLEMENTARY 
ARTICLES 

A  few  letters  from  Horn,  and  to  him,  throwing 

additional  light  upon  the  character  of  the 

man;    and    furnishing    some   of 

the  reasons  for  belief  in 

his  innocence 

Also  a  summary  of  the  "Horn  Case"  and  estimates 
of  the  man  by  those  who  knew  him  best 


LETTERS 

XO.  1— OWNBEY  TO  HORN. 

Denver,  Colo.,  January  24,  1902. 
Mr.  Tom  Horn, 
County  Jail, 

Cheyenne,  Wyo. 
Dear  Tom: 

I  see  by  the  papers  that  you  are  in  serious  trouble. 
After  reading  an  account  of  the  charge  preferred  against 
you,  I  can  not  for  the  life  of  me  believe  it  is  true.  Know 
ing  you  so  long  and  knowing  you  so  intimately  I  can  not 
comprehend  how  a  man  of  your  sense  and  ability  could 
be  guilty  of  so  great  a  charge  as  is  preferred  against  you. 

Now,  Tom,  you  will  remember  the  Cotopaxi  robbery, 
which  was  committed  several  years  ago  by  "Peg-leg"  and 
Curtis,  and  the  long,  hard  chase  we  had  after  them,  en 
deavoring  to  catch  them.  You  will  also  remember  Ed 
Kelly,  of  Walsenburg,  who  first  put  me  on  the  trail  of 
Curtis  and  "Peg-leg,"  and  you  will  again  remember  me 
wiring  you  and  Doc  Shores  to  meet  me  at  Walsenburg — 
that  I  was  on  the  trail  of  the  robbers.  Doc  Shores,  as 
you  know,  is  with  the  Rio  Grande  Western  as  their  spe 
cial  agent;  he  formerly  was  sheriff  of  Gunnison  county, 
and  his  reputation  is  beyond  reproach.  We  wrent  down 
on  the  prairie  between  Trinidad  and  Walsenburg,  and 
Kellv  went  back  on  all  his  first  statements  and  endeav- 


268  LIFE   OF   TOM   HORN  I 

ored  to  throw  us  off  the  trail.  You  will  remember  he 
would  have  been  killed  down  there  on  the  prairie  and 
left  for  the  coyotes  to  devour  had  it  not  been  for  your 
interference. 

Now,  Tom,  I  am  at  a  loss  to  believe,  after  your  pro 
tecting  such  a  character  as  Kelly  from  being  shot  out  on 
the  plains,  where  mortal  man  would  have  never  known 
anything  about  it,  that  you  would  be  guilty  of  murder 
ing  a  fourteen-year-old  boy  in  cold  blood.  You  know 
that  scoundrel  Kelly  would  have  been  shot  for  lying  to 
the  officers  had  it  not  been  for  your  interference. 

Tom,  I  do  not  believe  you  are  guilty  of  the  crime.  I 
am  writing  this  in  all  justice  to  you  and  the  community 
at  large;  knowing  you  as  I  do,  and  knowing  your  ability 
and  sense,  I  can  not  believe  you  would  stoop  so  low  as 
to  murder  a  fourteen-year-old  boy  for  the  small  sum  of 
five  hundred  dollars,  when  you  could  in  all  probability 
have  made  that  amount  in  a  week,  legitimately. 

I  live  in  Loveland,  Colorado,  and  if  there  is  anything 
I  can  do  for  you,  or  aid  you  in  any  manner  as  far  as  it 
is  right,  I  am  at  your  service.  You  can  write  me  at  Love- 
land,  Colorado,  box  271,  and  tell  me  what  you  think 
about  it.  I  will  give  a  copy  of  this  letter  to  the  press 
this  afternoon,  to  be  published  in  your  behalf,  as  I  do 
not  believe  you  guilty  of  the  crime.  Write  me  and  tell 
me  if  there  is  anything  I  can  do  to  aid  you. 

As  ever,  your  friend,  F  M   QWNBEY. 

P.  S.:  I  will  write  Doc  Shores  this  afternoon  (al 
though  I  presume  he  has  seen  an  account  of  your  trou 
ble),  and  see  if  there  is  anything  he  can  do  for  you.  My 
sympathies  are  with  you,  Tom,  because  I  believe  you»in- 
nocent. 


A   VINDICATION.  269 


NO.  2— HORN  TO  COBLE. 


Cheyenne,  Wyo.,  March  1,  1902. 
John  C.  Coble,  Esq., 

Rosier,  Wyo. 
Dear  John: 

1  have  just  made  an  elaborate  investment  in  writing 
material,  so  will  drop  you  a  line  and  will  continue  to  do 
so  every  week  from  now  on.  I  am  still  doing  business 
at  the  same  old  number,  but  times  are  very  dull  just  at 
present.  I  look  for  an  increase  in  business  in  a  few 
weeks. 

If  I  had  the  machine  here  I  would  play  a  few  lines 
something  like  "Go  away  back  and  sit  up." 

My  girls  have  all  left  off  writing  to  me  and  my  heart 
is  lonely  now.  If  I  had  some  place  to  work  I  would  be 
as  happy  as  a  clam.  Well,  I  guess  I  am  happy  anyhow. 

If  any  of  the  boys  are  looking  for  a  good  place  to  go, 
tell  them  to  go  to  Cheyenne  to  jail.  About  all  the  talk 
I  hear  is  which  are  the  best  jails  and  how  to  get  out 
of  jails,  and  doing  the  hobo  act,  and  good  places  to  go 
to  make  a  good  stake,  and  where  to  get  the  biggest  glass 
of  beer  for  5c,  and  who  gives  the  best  free  lunch  for 
nothing,  and  general  information  that  is  of  a  great  deal 
of  benefit  for  any  one  to  remember. 

Do  you  do  any  fishing  nowadays,  and  if  so,  send  me 
in  one  that  weighs  five  or  six  pounds,  for  I  am  hungry  for 
fish.  Send  it  to  me  by  express,  care  sheriff. 

Where  is  Charley  Irwin  going  to  keep  his  family? 
How  is  the  Michigan  coming  on?  What  made  Jim 
Meade  leave  Montana? 


270  LIFE   OF    TOM    HORN: 

I  don't  see  how  I  am  going  to  get  out  of  the  case  with 
any  money,  but  from  what  I  can  hear  from  the  outside, 
I  will  have  notoriety  enough  to  run  a  divorce  mill.  Well, 
money  is  but  dross  anyhow. 

I  have  fully  made  up  my  mind  that  I  will  go  way 
back  to  Missouri  and  sit  down  on  a  farm.  This  sporting 
life  isn't  what  it  is  cracked  up  to  be.  I  will  be  in  jail 
anyhow  four  months,  and  I  am  too  slow  to  ever  catch 
up  with  myself  again.  Just  think,  four  months  that  I 
don't  even  get  to  see  a  newspaper!  Is  that  what  you 
call  life  in  the  Far  West? 

You  and  Charley  are  the  only  ones  who  have  been  in 
to  see  me.  I  am  going  to  write  to  a  friend  of  mine  here 
in  town  to  send  me  some  reading  matter,  as  I  have  read 
everything  here  that  I  can  find.  By  the  way,  that  was  a 
nice  lot  of  literature  you  sent  me  before  you  left  town. 

Let  me  know  if  you  hear  anything  from  my  saddle, 
bed  and  valise.  Let  me  know,  also,  if  you  hear  from  the 
agents  and  they  don't  know  anything  of  the  stuff. 

Tell  Stone  and  Irwin  to  dry  the  beef  hides  good  and 
straight,  as  I  started  to  do,  and  not  to  put  them  one  on 
top  of  the  other  when  they  are  green. 

I  want  to  get  out  of  here  by  the  time  greens  get  ripe, 
so  I  can  walk  back  to  Missouri  and  live  on  greens. 

Well,  Johnnie,  I  feel  the  same  as  I  did  when  we  were 
in  that  train  wreck:  You  can't  hurt  a  Christian. 

Have  you  got  the  plumbago  fence  moved  and  let  the 
contract  for  ploughing  yet?  I  wanted  to  do  that  plough 
ing  myself,  but  can't  get  around  to  it  this  spring. 

Regards  to  Irwin,  Stone  and  all  the  boys.  Tell  Stone 
to  write.  With  regrets,  in  jail, 

TOM  HORN. 


A    VINDICATION.  271 

NO.  3— HORN  TO  IRW1N. 

Cheyenne,  Wyo.,  March  5,  1903. 
C.  B.  Irwin,  Esq. 
Bosler,  Wyo. 
Dear  Charley : 

I  received  the  |5.00  all  O.  K.  Yes,  send  down  your 
rieta  and  I  will  splice  it  and  glad  of  the  chance.  I  am 
just  getting  the  new  hair  work  so  I  begin  to  understand 
it.  I  will  keep  on  practicing  for  a  few  days  yet  before 
I  start  to  do  any  work. 

This  winter  does  look  to  me  like  a  corker.  The  back 
bone  of  it  may  soon  break. 

How  did  those  ropes  last?  Was  the  big  one  any 
good?  Shall  I  send  it  back  when  I  get  it  done  or  will  I 
leave  it  here  till  one  of  you  come  in?  Send  it  to  K.  A. 
Proctor,  for  he  is  the  only  man  here  to  tend  to  such 
things. 

I  have  had  a  bad  cold,  but  am  getting  over  it. 

Don't  forget  the  hair,  if  you  have  any  on  hand  when 
you  send  in  the  rope.  I  wrote  to  Sam  Moore  to  send  me 
in  some  white  hair  and  Proctor  saw  him  on  the  street 
here  the  same  day  I  wrote,  and  he  said  he  would  send  in 
some  right  away.  Send  in  that  hair  bridle  of  Johnnie's, 
so  I  can  take  pattern  from  it.  Send  it  with  the  rope.  I 
will  only  want  it  a  day  or  so;  I  can  splice  the  rope  in 
an  hour. 

Yours  truly, 

TOM  HORN. 


272  LIFE  OF    TOM   HORN: 


NO.  4— HORN  TO  OHNHAUS. 

Cheyenne,  Wyo.,  October  3,  1903. 
Chas.  J.  Ohnhaus,  Esq., 

Cheyenne,  Wyo. 
Sir: 

I  was  informed  by  the  sheriffs  and  my  lawyers  that 
the  Supreme  Court  has  refused  to  grant  me  a  new  trial, 
and  that  I  am  to  be  hanged  November  20th. 

Now,  sir,  I  am  going  to  make  an  appeal  to  you  to 
act  in  my  behalf,  and  it  certainly  is  not  much  I  ask — 
only  that  you  make  an  affidavit  to  the  facts  in  this  sup 
posed  confession  of  mine. 

You  and  I  and  Snow  and  La  Fors  and  Stoll  all  know 
that  you  changed  your  stenographic  notes,  at  the  insti 
gation  of  some  one,  from  what  was  actually  said,  to  what 
you  wanted  me  to  say.  In  speaking  of  this  money  that 
was  paid  to  me  on  the  train  between  Denver  and  Chey 
enne,  La  Fors  said  it  was  paid  to  me  by  George  Prentice 
and  that  Hi  Kelley  had  given  two  one  hundred  dollar 
bills  and  a  fifty  dollar  bill. 

Why  was  that  cut  out  of  your  notes? 

On  first  entering  the  marshal's  office  La  Fors  showed 
me  his  rifle,  and  we  had  some  conversation  about  the 
sights  on  the  rifle,  which  he  said  were  aperture  sights, 
and  he  explained  to  me  how  they  were  used. 

Why  was  that  cut  out  of  your  notes? 

You  said  in  your  notes  that  I  said  that  I  ran  across 
there  bare-footed,  when,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  I  told  La 
Fors  that  if  ever  he  wanted  to  cover  his  trail  to  go  bare 
footed.  In  speaking  of  the  rock  under  the  boy's  head, 


A   VINDICATION.  273 

he  asked  me  if  it  was  a  sign,  and  I  said  I  supposed  it  was. 
I  never  said  I  put  it  there,  nor  did  I  intimate  that  I  put 
it  there.  I  did  not  say  "That  is  the  sign  I  put  out  to 
collect  my  money." 

You  put  that  in  at  the  instigation  of  some  one. 

You  put  in  your  report  that  I  said:  "That  was  the 
best  shot  ever  I  made,  and  the  dirtiest  trick  I  ever  did." 

You  and  I,  and  the  others  I  have  mentioned,  know 
that  was  made  up  by  Stoll  or  La  Fors,  and  put  in  the 
notes  by  you. 

You  said  in  your  notes  that  I  was  paid  a  certain  sum 
for  killing  three  men  and  shooting  another  one,  and 
every  word  of  that  also  was  manufactured. 

There  were  other  things  of  more  or  less  importance 
put  in  your  notes  at  the  suggestion  of  some  one. 

Now,  the  people  that  know  you  say  that  you  are  a 
nice,  model  young  man,  and  a  Christian.  Now,  surely 
you  would  be  doing  a  Christian  act  to  come  out  and  make 
an  affidavit  to  the  facts  in  this  case  of  mine. 

You  are  a  young  man  not  yet  in  the  prime  of  life,  and 
do  you  want  to  go  through  life  knowing,  as  you  do,  that 
your  perjured  testimony  took  away  my  life?  You  may 
live  to  be  an  old  man,  and  every  day  of  your  life  you  can 
not  help  but  think  of  the  terrible  wrong  you  have  done 
me  by  being  made  a  tool  of  by  men  who  would,  if  it 
would  add  to  their  notoriety,  do  the  same  by  you  that 
they  have  done  by  me.  I  suppose  you  got,  or  was  prom 
ised,  a  certain  sum  of  money  for  doing  as  you  did.  Did 
you  enjoy  spending  it?  No!  every  cent  of  it  is  red  with 
the  blood  of  a  man  who  never  harmed  you  in  any  way, 
shape  or  form. 

You  may  live  to  be  an  old  man,  and  every  day  of  your 


274  LIFE  OF   TOM   HORN  I 

life  will,  if  I  am  hung,  be  a  day  that  you  can  say  to  your 
self:  "If  I  had  only  told  the  truth  in  Tom  Horn's  case,  I 
could  have  saved  his  life. 

I  am  appealing  to  you  for  the  truth  only,  and  that 
should  be  the  first  Christian  principle  of  any  one  with  a 
claim  on  Christian  principles. 

I  ask  only  that  you  will  go  to  my  attorneys  and  tell 
them  the  whole  truth  as  to  where  these  notes  were 
changed,  at  whose  instigation  they  were  changed,  and 
what  was  done  with  the  original  notes.  If  they  are  not 
destroyed  you  can  still  produce  them;  and  if  they  are 
destroyed,  you  can  tell  them  at  least  the  facts  in  the 
case,  and  forever  clear  your  mind  and  conscience  of  a 
burden  that  you  will  certainly  find  hard  to  bear  through 
life,  no  matter  how  stout-hearted  you  may  feel. 

Have  I  ever  harmed  you,  that  you  should  seek  my  life 
in  this  manner?  If  so,  when  and  where? 

There  are  too  many  men  mixed  up  in  this  business 
that  know  the  truth,  and  it  will  sooner  or  later  come  out, 
even  if  every  one  implicated  does  all  in  his  power  to  con 
ceal  it;  and  then  what  will  the  public  think  of  the  one 
or  more  when  they  do  know  what  must  eventually  leak 
out,  hide  it  as  you  may? 

You  were  made  a  tool  of  by  some  one,  and  now,  for 
the  last  time,  I  ask  you  to  tell  only  the  truth. 

Surely  I  am  not  asking  much  from  any  one  when  1 
ask  you  to  tell  only  the  truth. 

This  is  the  strongest  appeal  I  can  write  to  you,  and 
now  I  am  going  to  ask  you,  if  you  ignore  this  appeal,  to 
come  and  see  me  in  a  few  days,  so  I  can  talk  to  you  per 
sonally.  Yours  truly, 

TOM  HORN. 


A    VINDICATION.  275 

NO.  5— HORN  TO  COBLE. 

Cheyenne,  Wyo.,  October  9,  1903. 

John  C.  Coble,  Esq., 

Bosler,  Wyo. 
Dear  Johnnie: 

Proctor  came  to  me  last  night  and  showed  me  your 
letter.  How  is  everybody?  Who  is  boss  on  the  ranch? 
How  is  Dunk  getting  on  since  he  got  married?  Where 
is  Stone,  the  Savage? 

Write  me  and  tell  me  all  the  news  of  the  country. 
What  kind  of  prices  are  you  going  to  get  for  beef?  How 
is  the  feed  on  the  range  and  did  you  have  a  good  hay 
crop?  Who  put  it  up — and  all  the  news  you  have. 

I  think  you  will  have  no  trouble  to  get  to  see  me  next 
month. 

I  have  been  informed  that  it  might  do  me  some  good 
to  tell  all  I  .know,  but  I  can't  figure  out  who  would  be 
lieve  anything  I  said,  and  what  I  know  is  next  to  noth 
ing.  Of  course,  I  know  of  that  man  coming  to  see  you 
to  join  some  gang  of  men  in  the  hills  to  do  something  to 
the  sheep,  and  I  know  you  refused  to  have  anything  to 
do  with  any  of  the  outfit.  That  man  never  spoke  to  me 
at  all  about  the  sheep. 

I  know,  also,  that  the  man  that  I  went  after  and  made 
come  to  the  ranch  and  burn  his  brand  off  of  the  E  year 
ling,  offered  me  five  hundred  dollars  to  kill  off  the  whole 
bunch  of  sheep,  so  he  could  buy  the  ranch  cheap. 

1  know  the  husband  of  the  woman  who  said:  "I  just 
know  that  was  our  yearling  that  that  man  had  in  his 


276  LIFE   OF    TOM    HORN  I 

wagon,"  and  how,  when  she  was  told  the  sheriff  was 
looking  for  the  owner,  she  said,  "No,  it  was  not  ours." 
Well,  that  man  said  he  would  give  me  a  hundred  dollars, 
and  his  neighbor  below  him  said  (with  a  big  oath),  "Tom, 
you  have  got  this  to  do,  and  I  will  put  up  $250  to-day  for 
my  share." 

Those  are  the  only  ones  that  ever  said  anything  to 
me  about  the  row  and,  as  I  said  before,  no  one  wrould  take 
my  word  or  oath  either,  so  I  could  not  do  myself  any 
good  by  telling  that. 

Let  me  hear  all  the  news.  When  will  you  be  through 
shipping? 

Yours  truly, 

TOM  HORN. 


A   VINDICATION.  277 

NO.  6— HORN  TO  COBLE. 

Cheyenne,  Wyo.,  October  12,  1903. 
John  C.  Coble,  Esq., 

Bosler,  Wyo. 
Dear  Johnnie: 

I  have  written  you  a  couple  of  letters,  and  also  sev 
eral  to  Judge  Burke,  but  so  far  have  not  heard  a  word 
from  any  one. 

I  think  that  if  you  would  go  to  Denver  and  see  Billy 
Loomis  that  he  could  get  an  affidavit  from  Frank  W. 
Mulock  and  those  other  two  men  with  him,  showing  that 
he  came  here  hired  to  swear  to  anything  that  was  put 
into  his  mouth,  and  that  Stoll  and  La  Fors  hired  him  to 
do  so.  It  is  certainly  worth  while  to  make  the  attempt. 

Try  and  find  out  from  Burke  and  Lacey  if  such  an 
affidavit  would  do  any  good.  I  have  written  Burke  sev 
eral  times  in  the  last  week,  asking  him  if  such  an  affi 
davit  would  do  any  good,  but  so  far  have  been  unable 
to  get  a  reply  of  any  kind  from  him.  He  does  not  an 
swer  my  letters,  or  even  acknowledge  the  receipt  of  them. 
Of  course,  it  is  not  worth  while  to  get  them  if  they  will 
do  no  good,  but  where  there  is  absolute  perjury  shown, 
and  it  is  also  shown  that  these  men  were  paid  to  swear 
falsely,  it  would  certainly  cut  some  figure  with  the  gov 
ernor. 

I  wrote  Ohnhaus  a  letter  and  asked  him  to  come  up 
and  tell  the  truth  and  save  my  life;  this  I  did  on  the  4th 
of  this  month,  and  I  have  not  heard  from  him  yet.  Last 
night  Proctor  brought  me  word  that  Burke  said  it  would 


278  LIFE   OF   TOM   HORN: 

be  a  good  idea  to  write  a  letter  to  Mulock  and  see  if  he 
would  come  out  and  tell  the  truth,  but  no  word  can  I 
get  saying  what  good  it  would  do. 

Of  course,  with  Ohnhaus  it  is  different;  for  he  took 
down  the  conversation  in  shorthand  and  then  changed 
it  at  the  instigation  of  some  one.  He  can  tell  the  whole 
job,  and  that  would  get  me  a  pardon,  but  he  will  prob 
ably  refuse  to  do  so. 

Anyhow,  everything  should  be  tried.  You  know  that 
there  is  no  time  to  spare  if  this  thing  is  to  be  brought 
around. 

Burke  has  got  too  much  to  do  to  attend  to  this,  and 
if  you  will  give  it  your  personal  attention,  I  feel  sure 
you  can  accomplish  something. 

I  have  to-day  written  to  Billy  Loomis  at  Denver,  to 
see  Mulock  and  see  if  anything  can  be  done  in  the  matter, 
and  told  him  to  communicate  with  you  in  regard  to  the 
matter;  also  told  him  to  write  Burke. 

Johnnie,  drop  me  a  line  as  soon  as  you  get  this,  so  I 
can  tell  if  you  are  getting  my  letters.  How  are  every 
body  and  everything?  I  hear  beef  prices  are  way  down. 

If  you  go  to  Denver  and  can  get  this  affidavit  from 
this  man,  get  him  to  tell,  also,  who  told  him  what  to 
swear  to. 

Let  me  hear  from  you  soon. 

Yours  truly, 

TOM  HORN. 


A    VINDICATION.  279 

NO.  7— HORN  TO  COBLE. 


Cheyenne,  Wyo.,  October  31,  1903. 
John  C.  Coble, 

Bosler,  Wyo. 
Dear  Johnnie : 

I  had  a  long  talk  to-day  with  Judge  Burke,  and  he 
spoke  as  though  it  would  help  my  case  a  good  deal  if  it 
was  proven  that  I  was  not  present  when  Nickell  was 
shot  so  many  times. 

The  night  before  Nickell  was  shot  I  was  at  Alex 
Seller's  ranch,  and  wrent  away  in  the  morning  (the  morn 
ing  Nickell  was  shot),  and  came  back  to  his  ranch  in  the 
evening.  When  I  got  back  in  the  evening  to  Seller's 
ranch,  Jack  Linscott  was  there  and  stayed  all  night  and 
left  the  next  morning,  going  somewhere  up  on  the  North 
La  ramie  River.  I  left  the  ranch  also,  the  same  day,  and 
came  back  to  Seller's  ranch  again  in  the  evening,  and 
Jack  Linscott  also  came  back  to  Seller's  ranch,  and  as 
Linscott  and  I  both  got  in  about  the  same  time,  Sellers 
was  telling  both  of  us  about  Nickell  being  shot  the  day 
before,  and  Jack  said  he  did  not  hear  of  it  at  R.  R.  be 
fore  he  left. 

I  then  told  both  of  them  all  about  the  sheep  business, 
and  the  Nickell  and  Miller  war,  and  about  the  Nickell 
boy  being  killed  a  short  time  before,  which  they  had 
heard.  There  was  a  good  deal  of  talk  about  it,  so  they 
will  remember  it  well. 

-There  were  also  several  men  there  working  at  putting 
up  hay.  I  don't  know  their  names,  but  think  one  of 
them  was  a  Newell. 


280  LIFE  OF   TOM   HORN: 

Linscott  was  driving  a  buggy.  I  still  stayed  on  at 
Seller's  for  a  couple  of  nights  more  after  Linscott  left. 
I  was  at  Seller's  ranch  for  two  nights  before  Nickell  was 
shot,  and  two  or  three  nights  after.  Now,  Sellers  has 
sold  out  and  I  don't  know  where  he  is.  You  might  look 
him  up  and  show  him  this  letter,  and  he  can  not  help 
but  recall  the  whole  circumstance. 

I  will  write  Linscott  at  Rock  River  and  see  if  he  will 
come  in  and  see  Judge  Burke  and  make  an  affidavit  to 
these  facts. 

Yours  truly, 

TOM  HORN. 

P.  S.     I  am  writing  Linscott  to  write  to  Burke. 


A   VINDICATION.  281 

.  8— HORN  TO  COBLE. 


Cheyenne,  Wyo.,  November  17,  1903. 
John  C.  Coble, 

Bosler,  Wyo. 
Dear  Johnnie: 

Proctor  told  me  that  it  was  all  over  with  me  except 
the  applause  part  of  the  game. 

You  know  they  can't  hurt  a  Christian,  and  as  I  am 
prepared,  it  is  all  right. 

I  thoroughly  appreciate  all  you  have  done  for  me. 
No  one  could  have  done  more.  Kindly  accept  my  thanks, 
for  if  ever  a  man  had  a  true  friend,  you  have  proven  your 
self  one  to  me. 

Remember  me  kindly  to  all  my  friends,  if  I  have  any 
besides  yourself. 

Burke  and  Lacey  have  not  shown  up  yet. 

I  want  you  to  always  understand  that  the  steno 
graphic  notes  taken  in  the  United  States  marshal's  office 
were  all  changed  to  suit  the  occasion.  The  notes  read 
at  the  trial  were  not  the  original  notes  at  all.  Every 
thing  of  an  incriminating  nature  read  in  those  notes  was 
manufactured  and  put  it.  It  won't  do  any  good  to  kick 
at  that  now,  so  let  'er  go. 

If  any  one  profits  by  my  being  hung,  I  would  be  sorry 
to  see  them  disappointed. 

It  wrould,  perhaps,  be  somewhat  of  a  trying  meeting 
for  you  to  come  to  see  me  now.  Do  as  you  like.  It 
might  cause  you  a  good  deal  of  pain. 

I  am  just  the  same  as  ever,  and  will  remain  so. 


282  .   LIFE  OF   TOM   HORN! 

The  governor's  decision  was  no  surprise  to  me,  for  I 
was  tried,  convicted  and  hung  before  I  left  the  ranch. 
My  famous  confession  was  also  made  days  before  I  came 
to  town. 

I  told  Burke  to  give  you  some  writing  I  did;  be  sure 
and  get  it.  You  will  not  need  anything  to  remember  me 
by,  but  you  will  have  that  anyway.  Anything  else  I  may 
have  around  the  ranch  is  yours. 

I  won't  need  anything  where  I  am  going.  I  have  an 
appointment  with  some  Christian  ladies  to-morrow,  and 
will  write  you  of  their  visit  to-morrow  night. 

I  will  drop  you  a  line  every  day  now,  till  the  Reaper 
comes  along. 

Kindest  to  all. 

Yours  truly, 

TOM  HORN. 


A    VINDICATION.  283 

NO.  9— HORN  TO  COBLE. 


Cheyenne,  Wyo.,  November  20,  1903. 
John  C.  Coble,  Esq., 
Cheyenne,  Wyo. 

As  you  have  just  requested,  I  will  tell  all  my  knowl 
edge  of  everything  I  know  in  regard  to  the  killing  of 
the  Nickell  boy. 

The  day  I  laid  over  at  Miller's  ranch,  he  asked  me  to 
do  so,  so  that  I  could  meet  Billy  McDonald. 

Billy  McDonald  came  up  and  Miller  and  I  met  him 
up  the  creek,  above  Miller's  house.  Billy  opened  the  con- 
vers:<tion  by  saying  that  he  and  Miller  were  going  to  kill 
off  the  Nickell  outfit  and  wanted  me  to  go  in  on  it.  They 
said  that  Underwood  and  Jordon  would  pay  me. 

Miller  and  McDonald  said  they  would  do  the  wrork.  I 
refused  to  have  anything  to  do  with  them,  as  I  was  not 
interested  in  any  way.  McDonald  said  that  the  sheep 
were  then  on  Coble's  land  and  I  got  on  my  horse  and 
went  up  to  see,  and  they  were  not  on  Coble's  land. 

I  promised  to  stay  all  night  again  at  Miller's,  as  Mc 
Donald  said  he  would  come  up  again  next  morning. 

He  came  back  next  morning  and  asked  me  if  I  still 
felt  the  same  as  I  did  the  day  before,  and  I  told  him 
I  did. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "we  have  made  up  our  minds  to  wipe 
up  the  whole  Nickell  outfit." 

I  got  on  my  horse  and  left,  and  went  on  about  my 
business.  I  went  on  as  John  Brae  and  Otto  Plaga  said 
I  did,  and  on  to  the  ranch,  where  I  got  in  on  Saturday. 


284  LIFE  OF   TOM   HOEN  : 

I  heard  there  of  the  boy  being  killed.    I  felt  I  was  well 
out  of  the  mix  up. 

I  was  over  in  that  part  of  the  country  six  weeks  or 
two  months  later  and  saw  both  McDonald  and  Miller, 
and  they  were  laughing  and  blowing  to  me  about  run 
ning  and  shooting  the  sheep  of  Nickell.  I  told  them  I 
did  not  want  to  hear  of  it  at  all,  for  I  could  see  that  Mc 
Donald  wanted  to  tell  me  the  whole  scheme.  They  both 
gave  me  the  laugh  and  said  I  was  suspicioned  of  the 
whole  thing. 

I  knew  there  was  some  suspicion  against  me,  but 
did  not  pay  the  attention  to  it  that  I  should. 

That  is  all  there  is  to  it  so  far  as  I  know7. 

Irwin,  who  swore  I  came  into  Laramie  on  the  run  on 
that  Thursday,  just  simply  lied. 

All  that  supposed  confession  in  the  United  States 
marshal's  office  was  prearranged,  and  everything  that 
was  sworn  to  by  those  fellows  was  a  lie,  made  up  before 
I  came  to  Cheyenne.  Of  course,  there  was  talk  of  the 
killing  of  the  boy,  but  La  Fors  did  all  of  it.  I  did  not 
even  make  an  admission,  but  allowed  La  Fors  to  make 
some  insinuations. 

Ohnhaus,  La  Fors  and  Snow,  and  also  Irwin,  of  Lar 
amie,  all  swore  to  lies  to  fit  the  case. 

Your  name  was  not  mentioned  in  the  marshal's  office. 

This  is  the  truth,  as  I  am  going  to  die  in  ten  minutes. 

Thanking  you  for  your  kindness  and  continued  good 
ness  to  me,  I  am, 

Sincerely  yours, 

TOM  HORN. 


A    VINDICATION.  285 

.  10— CHAS.  HORN  TO  COBLE. 

Boulder,  Colo.,  November  27,  1903. 
Mr.  John  C.  Coble, 

Bosler,  Wyo. 
Kind  Friend: 

We  buried  Tom  with  all  due  respect  that  relatives 
and  friends  could  show.  We  had  the  largest  funeral  that 
was  ever  in  this  town.  Everybody  showed  due  courtesy 
to  the  hearse  as  it  went  seven  blocks.  They  stood  on  the 
street  with  their  hats  off  as  we  passed  along.  When  we 
arrived  at  the  cemetery  there  was  hardly  standing 
room.  There  must  have  been  anyhow  2,500  people  at 
the  funeral. 

Tom  told  our  sheriff  that  he  had  written  me  a  letter. 
I  have  never  received  it.  I  expected  this  letter  all  of  the 
time,  and  this  is  the  reason  that  I  never  wrote. 

I  would  like  to  know  if  he  had  any  personal  effects; 
if  so,  please  let  me  know  what  and  where  they  are.  I 
received  his  hat,  shoes  and  grip  from  Sheriff  Smalley. 

We  appreciate,  from  the  bottom  of  our  hearts,  all  that 
you  have  done  for  him;  that  is,  myself  and  family. 

We  have  no  picture  of  him,  nor  anything  but  what  I 
have  related  in  this  letter. 

I  received  a  letter  from  Attorney  Burke,  of  Cheyenne, 
requesting  me  to  place  a  guard  over  the  grave,  which  I 
had  already  made  arrangements  for,  and  did,  and  this 
guard  still  remains  and  will  until  I  call  him  off.  He  is 
an  old  friend  of  ours  and  Tom's,  and  never  falls  down  on 
anything. 


286  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN:      A   VINDICATION. 

I  see  by  the  papers  that  you  are  seriously  ill,  which 
I  am  exceedingly  sorry  to  hear. 

Hoping  to  hear  from  you  soon,  and  that  you  will  be 
in  better  health  when  this  reaches  you,  I  remain, 

Your  friend, 

CHARLES  HORN. 

P.  S.     Give  the  Irwin  boys  my  regards. 

CHAS.  HORN. 


GL.ENDOI-ENE  MYRTLE  KIMMET^L, 


MISS  KIMMELL'S  STATEMENT 


Born  and  reared  midst  the  comforts  and  refinements 
of  civilization,  I  have,  nevertheless,  been  most  strongly 
attracted  by  the  frontier  type;  so  when,  in  July  of  1901, 
I  went  to  take  the  Miller-Nickell  school  in  the  Iron  Moun 
tain  country,  I  was  happy  in  the  belief  that  I  would  meet 
with  the  embodiment  of  that  type  in  its  natural  environ 
ment.  I  was  doomed  to  disappointment,  for  all  the  cat 
tle  men  and  cow  boys  I  saw  were  like  the  hired  hands 
"back  East" 

I  was  beginning  to  regret  that  I  had  not  been  born 
some  twenty  years  earlier,  when,  on  the  night  of  July 
15th,  there  stopped  at  the  Miller  ranch  a  man  who  em 
bodied  the  characteristics,  the  experiences  and  the  code 
of  the  old  frontiersman.  It  was  Tom  Horn. 

Horn  went  to  Wyoming  in  1892  and  for  the  follow 
ing  five  years  worked  as  cow  boy  for  several  cattle  com 
panies. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  Spanish-American  War  Gen 
eral  Maus  received  instructions  to  look  up  Tom  Horn 
and  secure  his  services  in  the  organization  of  the  pack 
train  for  the  army  going  to  Cuba.  In  the  fall  of  1898, 
Horn  was  ordered  by  Miles  to  Tampa,  Florida,  as  chief 
pack  master  for  Shafter's  army,  with  the  rank  and  pay 
of  colonel.  Shortly  after  this,  he  was  made  master  of 
transportation. 


288  LIFE  OF   TOM    HORN: 

At  St.  Louis,  where  the  pack  train  of  520  mules  and 
133  packers  was  organized,  a  delay  occurred  which  neces 
sitated  the  shipping  of  the  train  from  Tampa  just  one 
day  behind  Colonel  Wood  and  Lieutenant  Colonel  Roose 
velt  and  their  Rough  Riders. 

When  the  train  arrived  at  harbor,  Horn  found  that 
the  transports  could  not  approach  the  landing  near 
enough  to  disembark  the  mules.  Nervous  and  anxious, 
he  consulted  the  officers  in  charge  of  the  transports,  and 
together  they  decided  to  visit  the  flag  ship  and  get  orders 
from  headquarters.  Being  personally  acquainted  with 
General  Shafter,  Horn  approached  him  with  the  earnest 
request  that  permission  be  given  to  attempt  the  landing 
of  the  pack  train,  so  that  supplies  and  ammunition 
might  be  hurried  after  the  Rough  Riders,  already  twenty- 
four  hours  in  advance.  Shafter  remonstrated:  "But 
Colonel,  you  can  not  get  your  transports  to  the  wharf." 
"Only  give  me  an  order  to  land  my  mules  and  they  will 
be  landed,"  was  the  reply.  "You  have  the  order,"  came 
the  brief  but  welcome  answer.  Disembarking  the  train 
began  without  delay,  the  manner  being  original  with 
Horn.  A  mule  would  be  taken  to  the  gangway,  where 
four  men  were  stationed  with  ropes.  There  was  a  "push 
all  together,"  and — the  mule  was  in  the  water. 

The  520  were  thus  unloaded  and  headed  for  shore, 
perhaps  a  mile  distant.  Only  two  of  the  animals  were 
lost.  One  was  trampled  underneath  and  drowned,  while 
another,  a  big  Missouri  mule,  swam  in  the  wrong  direc 
tion.  Two  seamen  were  sent  after  him  to  head  him 
back,  but  the  faster  the  sailors  rowed,  the  swifter  swam 
the  mule;  and  the  last  seen  of  him  he  was  far  out  in  the 


A   VINDICATION.  289 

ocean  headed  for  old  "Mizzoury."  By  daylight  those 
518  mules  were  packed  and  on  the  trail. 

Too  great  emphasis  can  not  be  given  to  the  fact  that 
but  for  the  energy  and  ingenuity  of  Tom  Horn,  there 
would  have  been  no  supplies  nor  ammuniation  at  the 
front  when  that  notable  engagement  at  San  Juan  Hill 
took  place.  Let  any  thoughtful,  fair-minded  person  re 
flect  upon  the  possible  consequences  if  the  chief  of  the 
train  had  not  insisted  upon  immediate  landing,  and  then 
with  tireless  zeal,  kept  his  hundred  and  more  packers  at 
work  through  the  long,  tropical  night. 

A  few  hours  before  the  battle  of  San  Juan  Hill,  Leon 
ard  Wood  and  Theodore  Roosevelt  met  with  Horn  while 
they  were  journeying  afoot  toward  the  front.  Their 
horses  were  worn  out,  so  they  asked  Horn  for  fresh  ones. 
Now,  Horn  had  received  orders  to  supply  no  one  mules; 
but,  having  served  with  Wood  in  Arizona  and  esteeming 
him  highly,  he  made  this  case  an  exception,  and  gave 
mounts  to  both  of  them. 

Incidentally,  Horn's  description  of  the  San  Juan 
fight  is  the  best  in  detail  ever  given.  According  to  this 
eye  witness,  a  degree  of  injustice  has  been  done  the 
Seventy-first  New  York  in  branding  the  entire  regiment 
as  cowards,  whereas,  there  was  only  a  deplorable  lack  of 
discipline  and  training.  Horn  saw  one  officer  use  every 
means  to  stop  the  retreat — stampede  rather — of  his  men, 
pleading,  commanding,  threatening,  even  striking  at 
them  with  his  sword;  and  finally,  seeing  that  his  efforts 
were  unavailing,  he  broke  his  sword  and  stamped  upon 
the  pieces.  But  his  men  streamed  past  him  and  his  few 
staunch  followers,  dodged  among  and  under  the  feet  of 
the  pack  mules  whence  the  disgusted  packers,  with  oaths 

10 


290  LIFE   OF    TOM    HORN: 

and  lashes,  strove  to  dislodge  them.  The  officer — he  of 
the  broken  sword — seeing  that  the  packers'  efforts  were 
also  vain,  joined  a  colored  regiment  just  then  charging 
up  the  Hill. 

Having  contracted  the  Cuban  fever,  Horn  was  com 
pelled  to  return  home  before  the  close  of  the  war.  After 
a  trying  hospital  experience,  he  went  to  the  ranch  of 
John  C.  Coble,  which  he  thenceforth  made  his  head 
quarters. 

By  this  time  the  rustlers  in  the  Iron  Mountain  coun 
try  had  grown  so  bold  that  the  leading  cattlemen  in 
those  regions  combined  and  hired  Horn  as  a  stock  detec 
tive.  His  duty  was  to  ride  the  range  in  the  open  season 
to  discover  offenders  and  prevent  stealing.  The  Iron 
Mountain  country  is  settled  principally  by  small  ranch 
men,  but  is  bordered  by  many  large  ranges.  It  is  only 
about  fifty  miles  square,  but  it  probably  contains  more 
rustlers  to  the  square  inch  than  any  other  place  twice  its 
size.  These  rustlers,  like  most  of  their  kind,  are  ignor 
ant,  shiftless  and  vicious.  True,  there  are  a  few  respect 
able  families,  but  they  are  decidedly  in  the  minority. 

The  most  talked-of  families  in  the  district  were  the 
Millers  and  the  Nickells,  whose  quarrels  had  long  been 
public  property.  They  had  taken  homesteads  about 
twenty  years  before,  and  for  the  past  ten  years  a  feud 
had  existed  between  them.  The  quarrel  had  extended 
even  down  to  the  younger  children,  and  fights  between 
them  were  not  uncommon.  The  feeling  grew  so  bitter 
that  in  February,  1901,  Jim  Miller,  the  father,  stabbed 
Kels  P.,  the  head  of  the  Nickell  family,  seriously,  but  not 
fatally.  The  latter  had  long  been  at  the  outs,  not  only 
with  the  Millers,  but  with  nearly  all  of  his  other  neigh 


A    VINDICATION.  291 

bors.  The  climax  came  in  the  early  summer  of  the  same 
year,  when  Nickell  brought  sheep  into  the  district — an 
unpardonable  sin  in  a  cattle  country. 

This  was  the  situation  with  which  Tom  Horn  had  to 
deal.  So  well  did  he  succeed  that  the  stealing  almost 
ceased.  Horn's  big,  muscular  body  and  keenness  in 
understanding  a  situation  had  much  to  do  with  his  suc 
cess;  but  his  main  weapon  was  his  reputation  as  a  killer. 
He  himself  carefully  fostered  this  reputation,  for  as  he 
would  say  to  his  friends:  "That  is  my  stock-in-trade." 
Nothing  but  powerful  fear  could  restrain  the  rustlers;  so 
Horn,  when  he  "just  happened"  to  drop  in  upon  a  cattle- 
thief,  would  entertain  the  family  by  accounts  of  his  ex 
periences  as  a  government  scout,  deputy  sheriff  and  as  a 
Pinkerton  detective.  These  bloody  tales  would  leave 
his  auditors  open-mouthed,  and  for  days  after  his  depart 
ure  not  a  calf  would  be  stolen  in  the  neighborhood. 

Of  course,  there  were  killings.  There  always  are 
when  cattlemen  and  rustlers  are  neighbors.  Naturally, 
the  rustlers  blamed  Horn  for  these  deaths,  for  they  hated 
him  in  proportion  as  they  feared.  Then,  Horn  himself 
boasted  of  the  killing  of  certain  cattle  thieves — that  was 
additional  stock-in-trade.  So  it  came  to  pass  that  many 
people  believed  Horn  responsible  for  all  the  killings. 
They  forgot  that  other  stock  detectives  were  riding,  that 
cattlemen  as  well  as  their  detectives  can  handle  guns, 
and  that  the  rustlers  quarrel  among  themselves!  The 
authorities  could  never  fathom  the  mysterious  killings, 
and  the  trouble  went  on. 

On  the  morning  of  July  19,  1901,  William  Nickell,  the 
fourteen-year-old  son  of  Kels  Nickell,  was  found  dead 
about  three-quarters  of  a  mile  from  his  home,  shot 


292  LIFE  OF   TOM    HORN  I 

through  the  heart.  There  was  no  clue,  but  the  Millers 
were  immediately  suspected.  One  theory  was  that  Jim 
Miller,  lying  in  wait  for  "Ole  Nick,"  as  he  called  his 
arch-enemy,  had  shot  the  boy  by  mistake;  but  at  the  first 
session  of  the  coroner's  inquest,  July  22d,  strong  evi 
dence  tended  to  show  that  Victor  Miller  was  the  guilty 
one,  he  having  had  many  personal  quarrels  and  fights 
with  William  Nickell.  But  the  evidence  was  not  strong 
enough  to  warrant  an  arrest,  and  it  looked  as  though 
this  tragedy  would  also  remain  unsolved. 

August  3d  the  excitement,  barely  subsiding,  was 
given  an  impetus  by  the  tresspassing  of  NickelFs  sheep 
upon  Miller's  deeded  land.  Several  hundred  sheep  taken 
from  their  owner's  homestead,  driven  across  the  public 
range  and  down  into  a  meadow  of  a  neighbor's  deeded 
land,  was  certainly  provocation  from  a  cattleman's 
standpoint.  Bloodshed  was  narrowly  averted  by  the 
withdrawal  of  the  sheep;  but  no  one  was  surprised  when 
the  next  day  Kels  Nickell  was  shot.  He  at  once  declared 
he  recognized  his  assailants  as  Jim  Miller  and  one  of  his 
grown  sons. 

This  declaration  is  intensified  by  the  statements  of 
Nickell  and  his  wife  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Joe  Reid,  neighbors: 
"They  will  try  to  lay  this  on  Tom  Horn,  but  he  never 
done  it!  It  was  the  Millers." 

At  the  second  session  of  the  coroner's  inquest,  August 
9th,  some  of  the  younger  Nickell  children  testified  that 
they  had  seen  the  men  ride  away  in  the  direction  of 
the  Millers,'  one  on  a  bay  and  the  other  on  a  gray  horse. 
This  was  serious  evidence  against  the  Millers,  for  of  Mil 
ler's  three  riding  horses,  one  was  a  bay  and  one  a  gray. 


A   VINDICATION.  293 

Thirteen  shots  had  been  fired  at  Nickell,  two  taking 
effect,  but  his  wounds  were  not  serious. 

Soon  after  the  shooting,  and  while  he  still  lay  in  the 
hospital  at  Cheyenne,  four  masked  men  descended  upon 
Nickell's  sheep,  sent  off  the  herder  and  clubbed  a  large 
number  of  the  flock.  Accustomed  to  strife  though  he 
was,  this  was  too  much  for  Nickell ;  he  sent  for  his  family 
to  come  to  Cheyenne,  and  his  ranch  was  put  up  for  sale. 
The  remainder  of  the  flock  were  withdrawn  from  the 
country  by  their  owners,  Nickell  having  simply  pastured 
the  sheep  on  shares. 

All  these  stirring  events  had  not  taken  place  without 
some  suspicion  being  directed  toward  Horn.  The  Mil 
lers  strove  adroitly  to  throw  suspicion  upon  him;  in  fact, 
both  Gus  and  Victor  Miller  repeatedly  said  to  me:  "It's 
all  right  to  let  suspicion  fall  on  Tom  Horn!  He  doesn't 
care,  and  it  might  help  us."  Then  there  were  many 
rustlers  interested  in  having  Horn  out  of  the  way, 
whether  he  was  innocent  or  guilty. 

There  were  only  two  points  which  could  possibly  be 
construed  against  Horn — his  cherished  reputation  as  a 
killer,  and  the  fact  that  two  days  prior  to  the  killing  he 
had  stopped  at  Miller's.  Horn's  friends  claimed  this  lat 
ter  fact  was  evidence  in  his  favor,  as  it  was  well  known 
he  could  enter  a  neighborhood,  gather  his  information 
and  depart,  with  no  one  the  wiser;  so,  had  he  been  on  a 
murderous  errand,  he  would  not  have  shown  himself. 
Horn  himself  always  explained  his  presence  there  by 
claiming  that  he  had  heard  Nickell's  sheep  were  out  on 
Coble's  land;  but  finding  that  such  was  not  the  case,  was 
homeward  bound  when  he  stopped  at  Miller's. 


294  LIFE  OF   TOM   HORN  I 

Horn's  movements  are  best  shown  by  a  quotation 
from  a  letter  he  wrote  to  his  attorney.  He  says : 

"The  morning  K.  P.  Nickell  was  shot,  I  left  Seller's 
ranch,  which  is  more  than  one  hundred  miles  from  the 
Nickell  neighborhood,  and  went  down  into  Dave  Coch- 
ran's  pasture  and  ran  across  Dave  and  talked  the  news 
of  the  country  over  with  him.  We  talked  of  the  killing 
of  the  Nickell  boy.  I  told  Dave  all  I  knew,  of  my  leaving 
there  the  day  before  the  boy  was  killed,  sheep  trouble, 
and  so  on.  I  went  on  back  to  Seller's  ranch  that  night. 
I  met  Cochran  on  the  round-up,  some  six  weeks  later, 
and  he  told  me  that  the  day  after  he  talked  to  me  in  his 
pasture  he  got  the  news  of  K.  P.  Nickell  being  shot  on 
the  day  before — which  was  the  day  I  was  talking  to  him 
in  his  pasture." 

On  the  other  hand,  is  it  improbable  that  the  Millers 
took  advantage  of  the  stock  detective's  presence  in  the 
neighborhood  to  score  against  their  old  enemies,  the 
Nickells?  Certain  it  is  Nickell's  sheep  had  never  both 
ered  any  of  the  cattle  outfits  for  which  Horn  was  work 
ing;  equally  certain  it  is  that  the  Millers  had  the  provo 
cation  ! 

The  second  night  of  his  stay  at  Miller's,  Horn  made  a 
remark  which  can  not  be  harmonized  with  the  theory 
that  he  was  mixed  up  in  the  Nickell  affairs.  Jim  Miller 
had  been  telling  about  Nickell's  threats  to  drive  the  sheep 
upon  Miller's  property,  and  he  ended  with  a  hard 
chuckle:  "If  Old  Nick  turns  his  sheep  in  on  my  land,  I'll 
turn  my  cattle  in  on  him."  Horn  quickly  and  seriously 
replied:  "Oh,  don't  do  anything  wrong!" 

The  summer  waned,  and  with  its  passing,  Horn  was 
thrown  out  of  employment.  The  sheep  were  out  of  the 


A   VINDICATION.  295 

country  and  the  rustlers  had  been  intimidated,  so  Horn's 
employers  decided  to  dispense  with  his  services. 

Among  the  officers  who  had  been  working  on  the 
Nickell  case  was  one  Joe  La  Fors,  a  deputy  U.  S.  mar 
shal.  This  man  had  always  posed  as  a  friend  of  Horn's; 
so  when,  in  the  latter  part  of  December,  he  told  Mr. 
Coble  that  he  knew  of  an  opening  in  Montana  for  a  stock 
detective,  and  that  he  would  help  Horn  get  the  position, 
neither  Horn  nor  Coble  were  surprised. 

The  position  was  secured  and  Horn  went  as  far  as 
Omaha,  where  he  got  drunk  and  lost  his  outfit.  Having 
returned  to  Coble's  ranch  for  a  new  outfit,  he  received  a 
letter  from  La  Fors,  saying  that  a  representative  of  the 
Montana  people  was  in  Cheyenne  and  wished  to  meet 
him.  La  Fors  also  had  a  letter  from  Montana,  which  he 
wished  to  show  him. 

On  his  way  to  Cheyenne  Horn  stopped  at  Laramie 
and  again  got  drunk,  and  the  morning  he  reached  Chey 
enne  continued  drinking,  so  that  he  was  too  drunk  to 
talk  to  La  Fors,  who  made  another  appointment  for  the 
afternoon.  Horn  missed  this  appointment  also,  and  La 
Fors  went  out  to  look  for  him.  He  found  him  asleep  on 
a  chair  in  the  back  room  of  a  saloon.  Waking  him,  he 
led  him  to  the  marshal's  office,  and  there  occurred  that 
famous  "confession."  As  to  what  was  really  said  in  the 
marshal's  office,  there  are  two  accounts — one  is  Horn's; 
the  other  is  Joe  La  Fors  and  his  confederates'. 

The  next  day,  January  13,  1902,  Tom  Horn  was  ar 
rested,  charged  with  the  murder  of  William  Nickell. 

What  evidence  the  authorities  held  was  not  made 
public  until  the  preliminary  hearing,  on  May  10th,  when 
it  was  disclosed  that  at  this  interview  with  La  Fors,  the 


296  LIFE  OF    TOM   HORN: 

district  court  stenographer,  one  Charles  Ohnhaus,  and  a 
deputy  sheriff,  one  Leslie  Snow,  had  been  secreted  by  La 
Fors  behind  the  door,  between  the  marshal's  two  offices. 
These  three  testified  that  during  the  interview  Horn  was 
perfectly  sober;  that  he  had  confessed  to  the  murder  of 
William  Nickell,  and  of  two  rustlers,  Lewis  and  Powell, 
who  several  years  before  had  lived  in  the  Iron  Mountain 
country;  that  he  had  confessed  to  shooting  at  Kels  Nick- 
ell  with  intent  to  kill;  that  he  had  said  killing  was  a 
business  proposition  with  him. 

Horn's  trial  came  up  on  October  13th.  In  addition 
to  these  statements,  there  was  a  great  showing  of  testi 
mony  against  him;  but  when  sifted,  it  left  the  "confes 
sion"  the  main  dependence  of  the  prosecution.  The  at 
torneys  for  the  defense  considered  Horn's  chances  better 
than  even,  as  the  only  thing  against  him  of  importance 
was  the  so-called  "confession" — and  he  was  drunk  when 
this  talk  occurred.  The  so-called  confession  was  not  in 
the  language  of  Horn,  filled  as  it  was  with  profanity  and 
vulgarity,  and  it  is  a  well  known  fact  that  Horn,  drunk 
or  sober,  was  never  vulgar  and  seldom  profane.  The  lan 
guage  sounds  more  like  Leslie  Snow  than  Tom  Horn. 
Even  the  unfriendly  newspapers  predicted  either  an  ac 
quittal  or  a  hung  jury. 

Great  was  the  surprise,  then,  when,  at  5  p.  m.  on  Oc 
tober  26th,  the  jury  brought  in  a  verdict  of  guilty.  This 
jury  was  composed  principally  of  small  ranchmen,  most 
of  whom  were  from  the  districts  adjacent  to  the  Iron 
Mountain  regions.  After  the  trial  it  was  discovered  that 
Horn  and  his  friends,  Duncan  Clark  and  Sam  Moore,  had 
recovered  stolen  stock  from  some  of  the  jurymen.  So  the 
stock  detective  had  been  tried  by  a  jury,  the  majority  of 


A   VINDICATION.  297 

whom  were  cattle  rustlers!  It  is  no  mystery  to  a  cow 
man  why  the  case  was  lost.  During  the  trial  a  prominent 
ranchman  publicly  said.  "Show  me  a  cattleman  who's 
against  Tom  Horn,  and  I'll  show  you  a  rustler!" 

An  appeal  was  taken,  first  to  the  district  judge  and 
then  to  the  Supreme  Court.  As  was  anticipated,  the  dis 
trict  judge  refused  a  new  trial.  The  rulings  during  the 
trial  were  such  that  the  defense  could  not  hope  for  much 
from  this  judge.  They  did,  however,  have  some  faith  in 
the  Supreme  Court,  for  the  attorneys  for  defense  cited 
seventy-nine  errors. 

\Yhile  the  matter  was  in  the  hands  of  this  court 
things  were  quiet,  except  that  certain  newspapers  kept 
loading  the  public  with  sensational  stories  that  plots 
had  been  laid  for  the  escape  of  the  prisoner.  August  9, 
1903,  Horn  did  break  jail,  and  was  at  large  for  about  fif 
teen  minutes.  The  alarm  had  been  quickly  given,  so  he 
was  captured  but  a  little  distance  from  the  jail. 

While  effecting  his  escape  he  secured  an  automatic 
Browning  pistol,  and  his  enemies  have  always  claimed 
that  he  would  have  killed  the  jailer  if  it  had  not  been 
that  he  did  not  understand  the  mechanism  of  the  gun. 
It  is  hard  for  his  friends  to  believe  that  he  could  not 
operate  so  simple  an  arrangement,  when  they  consider 
that  he  had  handled  firearms  all  his  life. 

Murder  was  evidently  not  in  his  heart,  for  he  could 
easily  have  killed  the  jailer  by  striking  him  with  the 
stock  of  the  gun  after  he  was  tied. 

After  Horn  had  surrendered,  and,  surrounded  by  offi 
cers  and  others,  was  returning  to  jail,  Deputy  Sheriff 
Leslie  Snow  rode  up,  and  with  the  butt  of  his  gun  aimed 
a  murderous  blow  at  the  prisoner's  head.  It  was  only 


298  LIFE  OF   TOM   HORN: 

due  to  the  quickness  of  a  policeman  in  throwing  up  his 
arm  that  the  stroke  missed  the  temple,  for  which  it  was 
intended,  and  its  power  may  be  judged  from  the  fact 
that  the  policeman's  wrist  was  broken.  Certain  of  the 
Wyoming  and  Denver  newspapers  had  much  to  say  about 
Horn's  "murderous  attack"  upon  the  jailer,  but  they  said 
nothing  about  Snow's  murderous  attack  upon  Horn. 

September  5th  came,  the  Supreme  Court's  adverse  de 
cision.  Then,  on  the  31st  of  October,  the  last  appeal  was 
taken — to  the  governor. 

Boarding,  as  I  did,  with  the  Miller's,  I  not  only  passed 
through  the  occurrences  which  were  made  public,  but  I 
obtained  a  thorough  view  behind  the  scenes.  After  the 
second  session  of  the  coroner's  inquest,  1  overheard  three 
conversations  between  Jim  and  Victor  Miller,  in  each  of 
which  conversation  statements  were  made  by  both,  in 
criminating  Victor  Miller  as  the  murderer  of  William 
Nickell.  Twice  afterwards  Jim  Miller  acknowledged  to 
me  that  Victor  had  confessed  to  him  the  killing  of  the 
Nickell  boy;  and  on  the  10th  of  October,  1901,  Victor 
Miller  himself  confessed  to  me  that  he  was  the  murderer. 
I  agreed  to  say  nothing  about  Victor's  criminality,  pro 
vided  they  would  make  no  attempt  to  sidetrack  the  crime 
on  Horn,  or  any  other  innocent  person.  I  felt  it  would 
be  unfair  to  punish  Victor  and  leave  untouched  his 
father  and  Kels  Nickell,  the  original  cause  of  all  the 
trouble.  Moreover,  I  took  into  consideration  the  youth 
of  the  self-confessed  murderer  (Victor  was  but  eighteen), 
and  that  he  had  grown  up  in  the  midst  of  quarreling  and 
strife.  So  I  held  my  peace. 

When  Horn  had  been  brought  to  trial,  I  seriously  con 
templated  laying  my  knowledge  of  Victor's  guilt  before 


A   VINDICATION.  299 

the  authorities;  but  as  the  attorneys  for  the  defense  re 
peatedly  wrote  me  that  they  were  confident  of  winning 
their  case,  I  thought  that  by  my  continued  silence  I  could 
save  Victor  Miller,  and  yet  not  jeopardize  Horn.  After 
the  jury  brought  in  their  verdict  I  was  ready  to  reveal 
my  knowledge  of  Victor's  guilt,  for  I  had  no  intention  of 
shielding  a  guilty  man  at  -the  expense  of  an  innocent 
one.  However,  owing  to  legal  technicality,  the  lawyers 
could  not  use  this  evidence  until  the  case  was  placed 
in  the  governor's  hands.  When  that  time  arrived  I  made 
an  affidavit,  setting  forth  in  detail  my  knowledge  of  Vic 
tor  Miller's  criminality,  and  then  I  went  to  Cheyenne 
from  a  distant  place  in  order  to  appear  in  person  before 
the  governor. 

The  newspapers  had  much  to  say  about  the  frequent 
interviews  the  governor  held  with  the  "school-ma'am," 
and  how  he  painstakingly  questioned  her  concerning  the 
situation  in  the  Iron  Mountain  country,  etc.  In  this  they 
drew  entirely  upon  their  imaginations.  I  held  but  one 
interview,  worthy  the  name,  with  the  governor,  and  in 
this  his  questions  were  very  evidently  prompted  more  by 
a  curiosity  concerning  my  personal,  private  affairs  than 
by  any  anxiety  to  inform  himself  upon  the  true  situation. 

I  did,  however,  hold  a  long,  comprehensive  interview 
with  Judge  Corn,  chief  justice  of  the  Wyoming  Supreme 
Court,  in  which  he  made  the  following  statement:  "You 
understand  the  Supreme  Court  did  not  determine  Tom 
Horn's  guilt  or  innocence;  they  simply  passed  upon 
whether  or  not  there  had  been  evidence  enough  before 
the  jury  upon  which  a  verdict  could  be  based.  As  for 
myself,  I  have  not  yet  made  up  my  mind  whether  he  is 


300  LIFE  OF   TOM   HORN: 

innocent  or  guilty.  In  fact,  I  would  be  perfectly  eligible 
as  a  juror  to  try  the  case." 

I  also  held  a  short  interview  with  Judge  Jesse  Knight, 
of  the  Supreme  Court,  in  which  he  said  he  did  not  read 
all  of  the  testimony  placed  before  the  Supreme  Court, 
and  made  this  further  statement:  "I  have  taken  no  part 
in  this  case  since  it  left  the  hands  of  the  Supreme  Court. 
I  might  have  if  they  hadn't  attacked  Joe  La  Fors."  It 
is  a  question  how  Horn's  friends  could  assert  his  inno 
cence  without  attacking  Joe  La  Fors. 

In  addition  to  my  testimony,  a  great  deal  of  other  evi 
dence  strongly  in  support  of  the  defendant  was  pre 
sented  to  the  governor. 

Among  the  things  submitted  were  two  letters  from 
Frank  W.  Mulock,  of  Denver.  It  will  be  remembered  by 
those  who  followed  the  case,  that  this  man  and  Robert 
G.  Cousley  testified  at  the  trial  that  they  had  heard  Horn 
in  a  Denver  saloon  boast  of  the  killing  of  the  Nickell 
boy.  Mulock's  letter  to  Lacey  came  as  a  complete  sur 
prise;  and  a  careful  reading  of  these  letters  leads  us  to 
but  one  inference — his  conscience  was  hurting  him! 

"Denver,  Oct.  5,  1903. 
"Hon.  J.  W.  Lacey,  Cheyenne,  Wyoming. 

"Dear  Sir:  I  was  sorry  to  hear  that  the  Supreme 
Court  had  refused  Tom  Horn  a  new  trial,  after  the  very 
able  defense  you  rendered  him.  I  am  one  of  the  Denver 
witnesses  that  testified  against  him. 

"Last  April,  in  Pueblo,  and  twice  here  in  Denver  last 
week  I  have  seen  a  man  who  is  a  double  for  Horn.  One 
Geo.  S.  Roberts,  was  to  have  been  a  witness  against 
Horn,  but  failed  to  show  up  at  the  last  minute.  This 


A   VINDICATION.  301 

Roberts  was  bartender  at  saloon  here  where  the  fellow 
claiming  to  be  Horn  made  the  alleged  confession.  From 
what  Roberts  has  told  me  since  Horn's  conviction,  I  am 
inclined  to  think  Horn  was  the  subject  of  a  base  con 
spiracy.  I  met  Roberts  in  Kansas  City  last  October,  and 
he  told  me  he  could  procure  evidence  to  acquit  Horn,  be 
sides  what  he  himself  knew.  I  think  Roberts  is  in  New 
Orleans,  La.,  at  present  and  I  am  satisfied  I  could  induce 
him  to  procure  anything  favorable  to  Horn  that  he 
knows.  I  think  if  the  showing  is  made  to  Governor 
Chatterton,  that  without  a  doubt,  the  governor  would 
grant  a  pardon  or  commutation  of  sentence. 

"I  am  willing  to  do  all  I  can  towards  the  reparation 
of  the  wrong  done  Horn,  if  any  wrong  has  been  com 
mitted.  I  will  go  to  New  Orleans  and  see  Roberts,  and 
I  am  fully  satisfied  I  can  induce  him  to  go  before  the 
governor  or  make  proper  affidavits.  I  do  not  ask  any 
compensation  for  my  services,  even  if  it  is  developed  that 
Horn  is  pardoned  or  commuted. 

"If  you  will  furnish  transportation  to  New  Orleans 
and  return  to  Denver,  with  accompanying  legitimate  ex 
penses,  I  am  ready  to  go  at  once.  If  I  do  not  hear  from 
you  in  two  or  three  days,  I  am  going  to  Idaho  for  the 
winter.  If  I  could  see  you  personally,  or  one  of  your  rep 
resentatives  here  in  Denver,  I  could  go  more  into  details 
in  reference  to  Roberts'  position  in  the  case.  You  can 
address  me  by  wire,  1134  —  Fifteenth  street,  care  Jno. 
D.  Ross,  Denver.  I  will  expect  an  answer  from  you 
Tuesday  or  Wednesday. 

"Yours  in  confidence, 

"Frank  W.  Mulock." 


302  LIFE  OF  TOM   HORN: 

"Denver,  Colo.,  October  13,  1903. 
"R.  G.  Couseley,  Esq., 
"1412  Olive  St., 
"St.  Louis,  Mo. 

"Friend  Bob: 

"I  sent  you  a  copy  of  an  affidavit  last  week  about  the 
Horn  case.  You  remember  when  we  were  in  Kansas  City 
last  fall  what  Roberts  told  us  about  that  fellow  we  met 
in  the  Scandinavian  saloon  not  being  Tom  Horn.  I  have 
since  found  out  things  that  lead  me  to  believe  that  Rob 
erts  was  telling  the  truth.  I  don't  think  we  ought  to  let 
this  matter  drop  now  and  let  Horn  be  hung  without  our 
doing  the  square  thing.  As  I  told  you  in  the  letter  be 
fore,  I  wrote  to  Mr.  Burke,  one  of  Horn's  lawyers,  and 
yesterday  I  met  him  again,  and  he  urges  me  to  do  every 
thing  we  can. 

"Please  attend  to  this  at  once,  and  write  me  or  T.  F. 
Burke,  of  Cheyenne,  Wyo.,  and  tell  him  the  circum 
stances  and  what  Roberts  told  us  in  Kansas  City. 

"Hoping  to  hear  from  you  at  once,  I  am, 

"Yours  truly, 

"Frank  W.  Mulock." 

It  seemed  as  though  this  evidence  must  at  least  save 
Horn's  life. 

On  the  14th  of  November,  at  half  past  three,  the  gov 
ernor  made  known  his  decision — he  would  not  interfere. 
On  the  afternoon  of  this  day  a  singular  incident  came 
under  my  notice.  At  exactly  4  o'clock  a  man  called  at 
my  room  in  the  hotel  and  presented  a  note  from  the  gov 
ernor.  The  note  read  as  follows: 


FEKISIDRE    CHATTERTOX, 
'*.  GOVERNOR. 


THE    STATE    OF    WYOMING. 

EXECUTIVE    DEPARTMENT, 


A   VINDICATION.  303 

"Miss  Kimmell:  Will  you  please  let  me  take  those 
letters  again?  I  read  them  so  hurriedly  yesterday  I 
would  like  to  see  them  again  at  my  leisure.  The  bearer 
is  my  deputy  secretary  of  state.  Yours  truly,  F.  Chat- 
terton." 

The  governor  had  reference  to  the  correspondence  be 
tween  Attorney  Burke  and  myself  in  relation  to  the  Horn 
case.  The  strange  thing  is  that  the  governor's  written 
decision  had  then  been  lying  on  Judge  Lacey's  desk  for 
half  an  hour! 

I  have  been  accused  of  presenting  theories  as  evi 
dence.  Would  it  be  too  far-fetched  a  theory  to  advance 
that  the  governor  had  now  found  time  to  consider  the 
evidence,  although  his  decision  had  already  been  made; 
or  did  he  have  the  deputy  take  those  letters  across  the 
street  to  the  prosecuting  attorney,  so  that  the  latter 
might  make  copies  of  them?  It  is  a  fact  that  after  Horn 
was  dead  the  prosecuting  attorney  had  copies  made  of 
his  farewell  letters  to  his  mother  and  his  sisters.  I 
learn  upon  unimpeachable  authority  that  while  Stoll's 
stenographer  was  typewriting  these  farewell  letters,  her 
eyes  filled  with  tears,  so  that  she  could  hardly  write. 
Stoll,  coming  into  the  room,  took  in  the  situation  and 
jeered  at  her.  The  state's  case  was  ended,  so  it  is  evident 
that  his  sole  purpose  was  to  acquire  souvenirs — of  what? 
Of  work  well  done!  The  hanging  of  an  innocent  man! 

So  it  was  that  on  November  20,  1903,  at  about  11 
a.  m.,  Tom  Horn  was  hanged.  There  are  those  who  can 
tell  the  grewsome  details.  It  is  enough  for  his  friends 
to  know  that  he  smiled  to  the  last. 

After  all  has  been  said  and  done,  why  was  he  hung? 
The  answer  is:  "Because  of  a  drunken  talk."  It  was 


304  LIFE  OF  TOM   HORN: 

clearly  demonstrated  that  upon  the  Sunday  morning  of 
his  interview  with  La  Fors  Horn  had  forty  drinks  within 
him;  yet  his  maudlin  words  were  called  a  "confession." 
If  his  confession  was  bona  fide,  it  is  strange  he  should 
so  soon  afterwards  have  vigorously  denied  it  and  con 
tinued  to  deny  it  even  to  his  death;  and  if  he  had  a 
guilty  soul,  it  is  singular  he  should  choose  to  unburden 
himself  to  a  mere  acquaintance  and  give  no  sign  to  his 
friends. 

It  was  characteristic  of  Horn  that  when  he  was  sober 
he  was  quiet  in  manner  and  modest,  but  that  when  he 
was  drunk  he  was  loquacious  and  boastful.  His  own 
account  of  his  interview  with  La  Fors  was  that  they 
were  trying  to  out-lie  each  other,  and,  as  La  Fors  had 
turned  the  subject  upon  killings,  each  boasted  of  killings 
he  had  done.  The  role  was  an  easy  one  for  Horn — it  was 
his  stock  in  trade  in  the  Iron  Mountain  country.  Cow 
boys  on  the  lone  prairie  and  scouts,  far  from  civilization, 
when  sitting  around  the  campfire,  habitually  spin  yarns; 
and  Horn  had  been  both  cow  boy  and  scout.  It  needed 
not  this  training,  however,  to  make  him  a  romancer.  He 
was  born  one.  He  had  an  active  imagination,  a  keen 
perception  and  a  genius  for  language.  He  was  truthful 
in  the  ordinary  affairs  of  life,  but  if  the  spinning  of  a 
yarn  would  give  pleasure,  he  was  not  one  to  let  facts 
stand  in  the  way.  He  always  maintained  that  his  state 
ments  to  La  Fors  were  changed  to  suit  the  requirements. 
The  alleged  confession  is  undoubtedly  characterized  by 
striking  peculiarities. 

Aside  from  the  fact  that  the  language  used  was  not 
that  of  Horn,  it  has  never  been  explained  why,  out  of 
the  multitude  of  his  friends,  he  should  have  selected  John 


A   VINDICATION.  305 

C.  Coble  and  me  to  speak  disparagingly  about.  Could 
it  be  that  the  authors  of  the  "confession"  calculated  that 
nothing  but  a  strong  resentment  would  turn  us  against 
him! 

Many  things  conspired  to  send  him  to  his  death,  chief 
among  which  was  the  attitude  of  a  number  of  the  news 
papers  of  Wyoming  and  Denver.  These  were  controlled 
by  parties  who  would  stop  at  nothing,  and  stoop  to  any 
thing  to  ruin  the  defense.  Accordingly  they  printed 
great  masses  of  damaging  lies,  and  would  not  admit  the 
smallest  favorable  point. 

It  is  said  that  one  of  the  newspaper  reporters  of 
the  case  being  remonstrated  with  for  inaccuracy  of 
statement  in  the  report  given  gave  this  excuse:  that 
the  best  authority  upon  this  class  of  news  laid  down  the 
rule  for  the  guidance  of  reporters  as  follows:  uln  case 
a  crime  has  been  committed  which  incenses  the  public 
mind,  if  the  accused  is  able  to  divide  the  public  senti 
ment,  then  take  the  sympathetic  side  of  the  case;  but 
if  the  accused  has  few  or  no  friends,  then  jump  onto 
him  with  both  feet  and  stamp  him  out  of  existence,  for 
by  so  doing  you  will  satisfy  the  mind  of  the  public  and 
close  the  incident." 

They  habitually  pictured  the  prisoner  viler  than  the 
vilest,  and  as  much  a  degenerate  physically  and  men 
tally  as  spiritually.  In  addition  to  this  calumny,  there 
was  much  perjured  evidence,  and  the  truth  was  twisted 
until  it  became  a  lie.  Then  there  were  political  ambi 
tions  in  the  way. 

This  was  evidenced  by  a  conversation  between  the 
governor  and  the  prosecuting  attorney  of  Douglas 
county,  Wyoming.  A  few  hours  after  the  governor  had 


306  LIFE  OP  TOM  HORN: 

made  known  his  decision,  the  prosecuting  attorney  tele 
phoned  to  him  in  reference  to  the  Indian  outbreak  that 
had  recently  occurred.  While  he  was  making  his  report 
the  governor  interrupted  him  by  asking:  "How  do  the 
people  up  there  take  my  decision  in  the  Horn  case?"  It 
seems  that  the  governor  had  taken  steps  to  learn  at  first 
hand  how  the  people  of  Natrona  county  felt,  for  during 
the  proceedings  before  him,  he  absented  himself  to  at 
tend  a  dance  at  Casper. 

As  a  prominent  lady  aptly  put  it:  "The  governor  of 
Wyoming  does  not  believe  in  capital  punishment  per 
sonally,  but  he  does  politically!" 

Why  Tom  Horn  should  have  been  convicted  will  al 
ways  be  an  open  question,  with  an  ever-increasing  num 
ber  believing  in  his  innocence. 

That  such  a  result  should  have  been  reached  upon 
the  evidence  produced,  and  especially  that  executive 
clemency  should  have  been  refused  in  face  of  the  show 
ing  made  in  support  of  the  application  therefor,  is  in 
deed  difficult  of  explanation. 

Tom  Horn  has  been  called  a  murderer  of  children,  but 
read  the  following  incidences,  a  few  of  his  many  kind 
nesses  to  the  young  and  to  the  suffering: 

In  the  Arizona  days  the  little  son  of  an  army  officer 
conceived  a  great  liking  for  him,  and  used  to  follow  him 
around.  One  day  when  he,  the  boy,  and  other  scouts 
were  out  riding  they  were  surprised  by  Indians.  A  sharp 
encounter  ensued,  in  which  the  scouts,  being  outnum 
bered,  were  forced  to  retreat.  As  they  were  dashing  off, 
Horn  noticed  the  boy  had  slipped  from  his  horse.  At 
the  risk  of  his  own  life  he  went  back,  lifted  the  child  into 
the  saddle  in  front  of  him,  and  succeeded  in  escaping. 


A   VINDICATION.  307 

Sam  Moore,  former  foreman  for  the  Swan  Land  and 
Cattle  Company,  writes: 

"Sheriff  Cook,  of  Albany  County,  Wyoming,  told  me 
in  the  waiting  room  of  the  Cheyenne  depot  at  the  time 
of  Horn's  trial,  that  Tom  and  himself  (Cook)  were  in 
Greeley,  Colorado,  together,  and  while  standing  around 
the  depot,  a  passenger  train  came  in. 

"Among  the  passengers  who  got  off  the  train  were 
two  or  three  little,  ragged,  hungry-looking  children,  who 
singled  Tom  from  among  the  crowd  and  came  up  to  him, 
asking  for  help.  Tom  instantly  acted,  and  took  them  to 
a  restaurant  and  filled  them  up  with  a  hearty  meal. 
After  which  he  took  them  to  a  clothing  store,  and  dressed 
them  up  with  new  clothes  and  bought  each  a  pair  of 
shoes — as  they  were  bare-footed.  Cook  said:  'Don't  tell 
me  a  man  like  him  is  around  killing  children.' 

"Tom  once  saved  my  life  by  a  good  throw  with  his 
lariat  at  the  right  time.  I  shall  never  forget  it." 

A  family  in  the  Laramie  Peak  country  tell  of  an  alter 
cation  between  two  of  their  cow  boys,  in  which  one  was 
fatally  wounded;  and  how  Horn  sat  for  hours  by  the  dy 
ing  man,  nursing  him  as  tenderly  as  a  woman  could  have 
done. 

Horn  hated  a  thief,  and  most  of  all  a  cow  thief;  but 
it  was  his  habit  to  give  a  rustler  every  possible  chance 
for  reform  before  reporting  him.  It  has  frequently  been 
said  that  in  his  duties  as  a  stock  detective  he  learned 
dark  secrets  of  his  employers,  Ora  Haley,  Whittaker 
Brothers  and  Al  Bowie;  and  it  was  predicted  that  if  he 
had  to  die,  he  would  reveal  his  knowledge,  for  these  men 
did  not  lift  a  little  finger  to  help  him  in  his  trouble:  but 


308  LIFE  OF  TOM   HORN: 

if  he  knew  of  any  shady  transactions  of  these  men,  he 
kept  them  to  himself. 

When  his  last  hour  had  come  and  ministers  talked  to 
him  about  his  soul's  salvation,  he  listened  carefully,  but 
made  no  hypocritical  pretension  to  a  feeling  he  did  not 
possess.  He  said  he  had  never  thought  much  about  such 
things,  but  realized  that  one  ought  to  prepare  for  the 
future  life.  Notwithstanding  statements  to  the  con 
trary,  he  always  believed  in  the  life  to  come,  and  in  re 
dress  for  human  wrongs. 

He  was  the  representative  of  a  type  not  common.  He 
was  a  man  of  action,  and  in  times  of  strenuousness  could 
out-do  and  out-endure  all  others;  but  in  his  hours  of 
leisure  he  could  be  as  indolent  as  a  Mexican  grandee,  and 
would  tell  his  romances  with  the  ease  of  a  litemteur. 

It  would  be  hard  to  find  Tom  Horn's  match  physic 
ally.  Standing  six  feet  two,  he  was  built  in  perfect  pro 
portion  to  his  height — broad-shouldered,  deep-chested, 
full-hipped.  Without  an  ounce  of  superfluous  flesh  upon 
him  and  with  muscles  of  steel,  he  could  perform  feats  of 
strength  which  were  the  admiration  and  despair  of  other 
men.  He  was  as  straight  as  an  Indian;  but  had  the 
swinging  carriage  of  the  old-time  frontiersman,  with  just 
the  suggestion  of  a  swagger  in  it.  With  strong  jaws, 
and  chin,  and  nose,  he  would  have  been  hard-featured 
but  for  the  full  lips  which  could  so  easily  curve  into  a 
smile. 

The  unflinching  stare  of  his  keen  eyes  which  one 
sometimes  encountered,  was  the  signal-light  of  a  sublime 
nerve — a  nerve  which  enabled  him  to  look  a  horrible 
death  in  the  face  and  smile.  This  was  one  reason  why 
his  enemies  so  hated  him.  They  could  imprison  him, 


A   VINDICATION.  309 

they  could  kill  him — they  might  even  torture  him — but 
they  could  never  make  his  soul  cringe,  his  nerve  falter. 

Strong  in  feeling  as  he  was,  he  was  unfailingly  good- 
uatured  and  polite;  and  with  his  German  blood,  he  had 
inherited  the  Teutonic  sense  of  humor.  Enjoying  a  good 
time  himself,  he  liked  to  see  everyone  else  have  one,  and 
many  tales  can  be  told  illustrative  of  his  big-heartedness. 
His  enemies  call  him  a  desperado,  but  his  whole  life 
was  spent  in  keeping  the  desperate  in  check.  His  ex 
periences  were  broad  and  deep,  and  he  rendered  much 
gallant  service  to  his  country.  Riding  hard,  drinking 
hard,  fighting  hard — so  passed  his  days,  until  he  was 
crushed  between  the  grindstones  of  two  civilizations. 

The  mortal  part  of  him  lies  in  the  cemetery  at  Boul 
der,  Colorado,  beneath  the  western  breezes  and  the  west 
ern  sunshine  which  he  loved  so  well ;  but  in  the  hearts  of 
his  friends,  Tom  Horn  will  live  forever  as  the  nerviest 
and  the  biggest-hearted  man  they  have  ever  known! 

GLENDOLENE  MYRTLE  KIMMELL. 
Denver,  Colo.,  April  12,  1904. 


"LIFE'S  RAILWAY  TO  HEAVEN" 


[Tom  Horn  counted  among  his  most  valued  friends  the 
Irwin  brothers,  Charles  and  Frank,  and  rightly  so;  for  when 
his  last  moments  had  come  (moments  from  which  the  most  de 
voted  shrank),  theirs  were  the  last  friendly  faces  he  beheld — 
these  two,  who  were  there  to  sustain  him,  singing,  at  the 
scaffold's  foot,  with  brave,  tear-choked  voices,  a  song  to  cheer 
their  former  comrade  in  his  extremity.] 


Life  is  like  a  mountain  railroad,  with  an  engineer  that's. brave; 
We  must  make  the  run  successful,  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave; 
Watch  the  curves,  the  fills,  the  tunnels;  never  falter,  never  quail; 
Keep  your  hand  upon  the  throttle,  and  your  eye  upon  the  rail. 

Chorus : 
Blessed  Savior,  Thou  wilt  guide  us  till  we  reach  that  blissful 

shore, 
Where  the  angels  wait  to  join  us,  in  Thy  praise  forever  more. 


You  will  roll  up  grades  of  trial;   you  will  cross  the  bridge  of 

strife; 

See  that  Christ  is  your  conductor,  on  this  lightning  train  of  life; 
Always  mindful  of  obstructions,  do  your  duty,  never  fail; 
Keep  your  hand  upon  the  throttle,  and  your  eye  upon  the  rail. 


You  will  often  find  obstructions;   look  for  storms  of  wind  and 

rain; 

On  a  fill,  or  curve,  or  trestle,  they  will  almost  ditch  your  train; 
Put  your  trust  alone  in  Jesus;   never  falter,  never  fail; 
Keep  your  hand  upon  the  throttle,  and  your  eye  upon  the  rail. 


As  you  roll  across  the  trestle,  spanning  Jordan's  swelling  tide, 
You  behold  the  Union  Depot,  into  which  your  train  will  glide; 
There  you'll  meet  the  Superintendent,  God  the  Father,  God  the 

Son, 
With    the    hearty,     joyous    plaudit,     "Weary    pilgrim,    welcome 

home." 


STATEMENT  FROM  AL.  SIEBER 


Tom  went  to  work  for  me  in  the  government  pack 
train  in  1882;  he  was  with  me  and  worked  steady  with 
me  for  three  years.  A  more  faithful  or  better  worker  or 
a  more  honorable  man  I  never  met  in  my  life. 

During  the  period  of  three  years,  I  made  numbers  of 
scouting  expeditions,  and  oftentimes  needed  the  help  of 
a  man  I  could  rely  on,  and  I  always  placed  Horn  in 
charge;  for  it  required  a  man  of  bravery,  judgment  and 
skill,  and  I  ever  found  Tom  true  to  the  last  letter  of  the 
law  to  any  and  every  trust  confided  to  his  care. 

In  '83  Horn  was  with  me  when  I  went  into  Mexico 
with  General  Crook,  and  we  brought  back  the  Chiricahua 
Apaches  to  the  White  Mountain  Reservation  here  in  Ari 
zona.  During  that  trip  Horn  proved  himself  a  very  val 
uable  man  to  me  on  many  occasions. 

In  making  my  side-scouts  alone,  I  would  always  place 
Horn  in  charge  of  all  Indian  scouts  left  behind  in  camp. 
This  required  a  man  who  was  cool  and  had  judgment  to 
control  and  handle  these  scouts.  Also,  on  other  side- 
trips,  when  I  took  a  few  pack  animals,  I  ever  made  it  a 
point  to  take  Tom  with  me,  as  it  very  often  required  me 
to  have  a  man  that  I  could  rely  on  in  every  way,  as  I 
oftentimes  had  to  split  my  crowd  after  being  out.  At 
these  times  I  would  always  put  Horn  in  charge  of  one 
set  of  scouts,  tell  him  where  and  the  time  to  meet  me, 
and  what  to  do;  and  I  never  had  him  fail  to  obey  my  or- 


312  LIFE  OF  TOM   HORN: 

ders  to  perfection.  No  matter  what  came  up — rain  or 
snow,  clouds  or  sunshine — Tom  was  there  to  meet  me, 
and  true  to  the  trust. 

This  gave  me  such  confidence  in  him  that  in  1885, 
when  the  Chiricahuas  broke  away  from  their  White 
Mountain  Reservation  here  (which  caused  the  Indian 
War  of  1885),  and  I  followed  them  into  Mexico  with  Cap 
tain  Crawford,  I  took  Tom  Horn  along  with  me.  While 
I  was  out  on  the  campaign,  the  balance  of  the  Apaches 
on  the  Reservation  became  very  unruly,  which  caused 
General  Crook  to  call  me  from  Mexico  back  to  the  In 
dian  Reservation  here  in  Arizona  Territory.  When  I 
left  to  obey  the  orders,  I  placed  Horn  in  charge  of  my 
scouts  with  Captain  Crawford,  and  he  stayed  in  Mexico. 

Captain  Crawford  finally  overtook  the  Indians  and 
had  a  fight  with  them.  This  is  the  time  Captain  Craw 
ford  lost  his  life  by  the  Mexican  troops  who  ran  onto 
Crawford's  outfit,  mistook  the  camp  for  hostiles,  and 
opened  fire  on  them.  Crawford  and  Horn  yelled  to  the 
Mexicans  that  they  were  friendly;  but  before  the  firing 
ceased,  Crawford  lost  his  life,  and  Tom  Horn  was  shot 
through  the  arm. 

Notwithstanding  all  this,  Lieutenant  Maus  and  Tom 
Horn  brought  the  hostiles,  or  at  least  the  biggest  part 
of  them,  back  across  the  line,  and  would  have  brought 
them  safe  to  the  Reservation  had  it  not  been  for  some 
white  men  camped  near  the  old  San  Bernardino  ranch, 
who  sold  the  Indians  whiskey  and  mescal.  This  caused 
the  Indians  to  become  drunk  and  unruly,  and  about  one- 
half  of  them  broke  away  from  the  Maus  command  and 
went  back  into  Mexico.  The  rest  were  brought  to  Camp 
Bowie,  and  shipped  from  there  to  Florida.  This  break 


A   VINDICATION.  313 

was  the  cause  of  prolonging  the  Indian  War  at  least  one 
year  longer. 

Horn's  part  in  the  war  deserves  the  greatest  praise 
for  his  services  and  the  handling  of  his  Indian  scouts. 

Shortly  after  this,  General  Crook  was  relieved  of  the 
command  of  the  department  of  the  southwest,  by  Gen 
eral  Miles,  and  Horn  quit  the  government  service,  al 
though  I  saw  him  frequently  afterwards,  fie  went  to 
work  in  Pleasant  Valley  as  a  ranch  hand.  After  this, 
there  was  a  fierce  war  in  this  section  known  as  the  Pleas 
ant  Valley  war,  between  the  cow  men  and  the  sheep  men. 
There  were  between  twenty  and  thirty  men  killed  during 
the  fight.  Tom  took  no  part  with  either  side,  although 
every  inducement  was  offered  him  to  take  sides. 

Tom  remained  in  that  vicinity  until  he  went  to  Den 
ver,  as  he  told  me,  to  go  to  work  for  the  Pinkerton  out 
fit.  Since  that  I  know  nothing  of  him,  only  what  I  read 
in  newspapers. 

Now,  I  wish  to  state  that  during  the  time  of  three  or 
four  years  he  was  around  me,  and  with  me,  I  never  once 
saw  him  under  the  influence  of  liquor.  The  most  he  ever 
drank  was  a  glass  of  beer  when  out  with  a  gang  of  the 
boys.  And  knowing  him,  as  I  do,  and  taking  all  into 
consideration,  I  can  not,  and  will  not,  ever  believe  that 
Tom  Horn  was  the  man  the  papers  tried  to  make  the 
world  believe  he  was.  These  words  and  sentiments  can 
not  be  put  too  strong,  for  I  can  never  believe  that  the 
jolly,  jovial,  honorable  and  whole-souled  Tom  Horn  I 
knew  was  a  low-down  miserable  murderer. 

In  regard  to  my  picture,  I  have  none  here,  and  have 
no  show  at  present  to  have  one  taken,  and  as  for  my 
scouting  costume,  it  was  ever  the  same  as  that  of  any 


314  LIFE   OF   TOM    HORN:      A    VINDICATION. 

roving  man;  for,  during  my  twenty-one  years  of  fighting 
and  hunting  hostile  Indians,  I  never  wore  long  hair  or 
buckskin  clothes. 

Now,  sir,  if  this  will  be  of  any  benefit,  use  it  to  suit 
yourself.     It  is  all  facts  to  a  letter. 

Your  friend, 

AL  SIEBER. 

Roosevelt,  A.  T.,  April  7,  1904. 


JOHN  C.   COBLE 


CLOSING  WORD 


I  have  never  made  a  statement  for  publication.  All 
alleged  statements  and  interviews  published,  whenever 
and  wherever  they  may  have  appeared,  were  without 
authority  and  without  any  foundation  in  fact. 

Throughout  the  recent  trial,  despite  argument  of 
friend  and  abuse  of  foe,  I  have  invariably  refused  to  be 
interviewed,  realizing  the  misrepresentation  which  might 
await  me.  Condemned  if  I  spoke,  condemned  if  I  did 
not  speak,  I  found  myself  driven  to  the  position  of  a 
private  citizen  protecting  his  individual  interests  and  the 
interests  of  others  entrusted  to  his  charge  from  the 
rapacity  of  maudlin  and  not  over-scrupulous  newsmon 
gers.  The  marked  unfairness  of  the  Colorado- Wyoming 
press  in  handling  the  trial  has  been  unaccountable  to  the 
uninformed,  but  to  those  who  know,  this  prejudiced  at 
titude  may  be  clear. 

Given:  a  "bunch"  of  reporters,  inferior,  unscrupulous 
space-fillers,  of  whichever  sex,  whose  instructions  have 
been 

"Get  copy,  copy  still. 
And  then  let  Justice  follow — if  she  will," 

and  then  the  prisoner  at  the  bar  becomes,  so  far  as  the 
news  reports  are  concerned,  a  "black-hearted,  bloody- 
handed,  inhuman  monster;"  and  spite,  retaliation  and 
baffled  scheme  for  gain  combine  to  hatch  brood  after 


316  LIFE  OF  TOM   HORN: 

brood  of  lies,  harmless  or  harmful  as  they  may  be,  and 
with  or  without  consequences,  but  lies  just  the  same,  de 
liberately  manufactured  and  circulated.  For  example, 
weigh  such  press  statements  as  these:  that  Horn  at  any 
time  lost  his  nerve;  that  the  defense  paid  for  evidence; 
that  Horn  was  unruly  as  a  boy;  that  Duncan  Clark  re 
signed  his  foremanship  of  the  Iron  Mountain  ranch  be 
cause  of  trouble  over  his  testimony;  that  Horn  tried  to 
kill  his  jailer  the  day  he  attempted  to  gain  his  liberty; 
that  Horn  was  informed  of  the  governor's  decision  before 
the  17th  day  of  November,  1903 ;  that  Horn's  last  letter 
to  me  was  handed  over  by  Proctor,  deputy  sheriff,  to 
Charles  Irwin,  unopened  and  in  the  presence  of  witnesses 
at  the  scaffold;  and  that  I  declined  to  pay  any  part  of 
the  funeral  expenses  of  Horn  after  his  execution. 

On  the  contrary,  Horn  was  never  known  to  lose  his 
nerve;  not  one  cent  was  paid  or  offered  for  evidence; 
Horn  was  not  incorrigible  in  his  youth;  there  was  not 
the  slightest  connection  between  Duncan  Clark's  resig 
nation  and  his  testimony  at  the  Horn  trial ;  had  Horn  de 
sired  to  shed  blood  in  his  attempt  to  regain  his  liberty, 
he  could  easily  have  done  so,  as  the  jailer  wras  wholly  at 
his  mercy;  the  prisoner  was  informed  of  his  approaching 
execution  exactly  three  days  before  his  death,  as  his  let 
ter  given  on  preceding  pages  of  this  book  shows ;  his  last 
letter  to  me  (certainly  a  sacred  trust),  was  desecrated  by 
unfriendly  newspaper  reporters,  passed  from  hand  to 
hand,  and  was  given  Charlie  Irwin  in  the  sheriff's  office 
after  the  execution;  and  I  certainly  paid,  and  wished  to 
pay,  every  item  of  the  funeral  expenses — a  fact  quite 
easily  proven. 


A    VINDICATION.  317 

Yet  it  is  through  these  equivocations,  and  other  prod 
ucts  of  reportorial  imagination,  that  the  great  and  all- 
fair  press,  alive  (?)  to  its  grave  responsibility  where  a 
human  life  is  at  stake,  proves  its  trustworthiness!  It 
is  thus  that  the  all-powerful  moulders  of  public  opinion 
proceed  to  mould! 

And  it  has  not  been  the  press  alone,  but  there  have 
been  men  in  positions  of  trust,  puffed  up  with  their 
''little  brief  authority,"  who  have  besmirched  their  trust 
and  stooped  to  odious  means  for  their  selfish  ends.  If 
it  be  true  that  "kings  play  at  chess  with  nations  for 
pawns,"  then  it  is  as  true  that  Wyoming  politicians  play 
the  game  of  justice  with  human  souls  for  pawns,  and,  I 
may  add,  with  Cowardice  as  referee. 

The  story  is  done.  Close  the  pages  that  tell  of  fight 
ing  our  country's  foes,  of  secret  service,  of  Cuban  cam 
paigning,  of  zeal,  of  faithfulness,  of  fearlessness.  Un 
written  always  must  remain  the  record  of  Tom  Horn's 
bravery,  loyalty,  generosity  and  the  countless  kindly 
acts  which  marked  his  pathway  through  life.  I  am 
proud  to  say  that  he  was  my  friend,  always  faithful  and 
just.  When  can  I  hope  to  see  such  another!  And  no 
man  ever  walked  more  bravely  to  his  death. 

I  am  convinced,  and  I  re-assert  it  to  be  true,  that  Tom 
Horn  was  guiltless  of  the  crime  for  which  he  died.  Nor 
am  I  alone  in  this  belief.  He  suffered  the  death,  but 
there  is  a  Great  and  Final  Referee  in  all  matters  of 
Justice.  To  Him — the  last  and  final  decision. 

JOHN  C.  COBLE. 

Iron  Mountain  Ranch,  Bosler,  Wyoming, 
March  1,  1904. 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  T.AOI.  T» 

14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  D«k  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

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RETURNED  TO 

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MAY  2  ?  1971 


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